


the boy with the cold hard cash (Is always Mister Right)

by London9Calling



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Dirty Talk, F Love give me money, Hyung Kink, I am probably forgetting things, Junmyeon and Sehun have a 12 year age gap fyi, M/M, Mentions of past underage relationships (17 YO with 23 YO), Okay but feelings, Rimming, Shower Sex, Size Kink, Smut, Some angst, Sugar Baby Kim Junmyeon, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Oh Sehun, catching feelings, side xiuhan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-10 13:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17426648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London9Calling/pseuds/London9Calling
Summary: Kim Junmyeon has been a Sugar Baby for thirteen (13) blissful, unattached years. When he finds himself suddenly Sugar Daddy-less, Junmyeon looks for a new Glucose Guardian. Enter Oh Sehun, a rather unexpected (but ultimately) welcome surprise.





	1. Chapter 1

“It’s getting kind of sad, yunno,” Minseok sighed, eyes never leaving the television.

Junmyeon squirmed in his seat, squeezing the throw pillow he had on his lap. “It’s a news story about the new giraffe at the zoo, how is it sad? It seems hopeful. Giraffes are cute.”

Minseok looked away from the television and fixed his best friend with a stare. “I mean the fact you haven’t left the apartment in four days. It’s affecting my sex life. Lu Han won’t be loud if he knows you’re here.”

Junmyeon always found something slightly unnerving about Minseok, mostly because his face was so damn disarming. Chubby cheeks, wide eyes, he was the definition of a baby face. Minseok was still routinely mistaken for a teenager even though he was in his mid-thirties (Junmyeon couldn’t relate). And now, with a serious, slightly annoyed expression, the innocent features turned scary.

Junmyeon huffed and rolled his eyes. “Really, you’re going to start in on me too? First, my mom lecturing me about a week off with nothing to do and now you?”

Minseok turned towards his roommate, bending his knee. “Junmyeon, my friend. Go outside. Do something. See a movie. Visit your parents.”

“So you can have loud sex with Lu Han?”

Minseok nodded. “Exactly.” After a moment adding, “And clean. You’re way too messy as it is, staying home all day is destroying the order of this house, and I’m not sure I can take it anymore.” He nodded towards the kitchen, tutting his tongue.

“I did the dishes this morning!” Junmyeon protested.

“You put them in the sink, Jun. That is not _doing_ them.” Minseok shook his head. “Anyway, what’s the deal. You said it wasn’t about you-know-who and I want to believe you, but you aren’t exactly supporting your argument by becoming a messy hermit and sleeping half the day.”

“I had a lot of PTO saved up, okay. I told you, I just need to relax and use it,” Junmyeon rattled off.

“Right after your sugar daddy kicked you to the curb?” Minseok tilted his head to the side, watching his best friend closely. “Strange coincidence.”

“Yifan _did not_ kick me to the curb. He’s moving. And so, what, we weren’t dating.” Junmyeon crossed his arms over his chest, tensing up. They were not dating. _Kim Junmyeon didn’t date_.

“Sure. Okay,” Minseok mocked understanding. “Whatever floats your boat. I’m going to go take a shower and then go out for a bit, like a functioning human being. Lu Han will be over later so, you know if you aren’t allergic to fresh air the door is over there.” Minseok tossed the remote control at Junmyeon, the other man scrambling to catch it.

Junmyeon failed, the remote bouncing off the throw pillow and whacking him on the shoulder. “Hey!” he yelled after his friend, but Minseok was already gone, padding down the hall towards the bathroom.

 

Junmyeon would categorize his life as mundane. Safe. Stable. Even dull, if he was honest with himself.

He had a good job. A retirement fund that he monitored closely. Savings in the bank. He shared a moderately sized apartment with his best friend, in a decent part of town. He sometimes went out on weekends with old college buddies. He volunteered occasionally and played golf every now and then.

He got along with his co-workers and handled the most prestigious accounts at work.

He was also a longtime Sugar Baby, which to some people might be the exact opposite of mundane, but for him, it was an old hat. Had been since the age of twenty-two, a fresh college graduate without a job, starting to panic that he would never obtain a career in his field. He could still vividly remember how he felt the first time, meeting a stranger with the full knowledge they were entering into an agreement where he was paid to…. well, back then he wasn’t even sure what it all entailed. He had a vague idea and a good sense of boundaries, but the intricacies were foreign to him.

The first had been Minho. Bright eyes with a killer body and a family business that made a healthy profit. He had bought Junmyeon his first car. They broke it off when Minho got engaged. It had been years since they had talked, but they were still friends on Facebook.

Then was Yunho, which honestly Junmyeon still missed his dick if not precisely the man himself. That had lasted almost a year until Yunho met someone and dropped off the face of the earth. Then came Andrew, a brief months-long thing with a foreign businessman. Then Heechul, who was by far the most fun. A few after that, one almost fifteen years older than Junmyeon. Jiyoung was next, a consecutive two years of monthly visits and substantial funds being deposited into Junmyeon’s bank account. And then Yifan, ten years older with a fleet of fast sports car and an endearing personality.

Yifan had lasted three years. The longest yet. Junmyeon wouldn’t say he had fallen in love, but he _had_ grown attached to the routine. So when Yifan had broken it off, citing relocating for his job, Junmyeon felt a bit empty. Okay, kind of _a lot empty_. Like…. now what? He’d lost his part-time job.

A full week had passed since then. Junmyeon was aimless and deep down he knew that Minseok was right. He wasn’t exactly having a post-breakup thing. Nah, it wasn’t like that. They hadn’t been dating. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling oddly adrift, not knowing what to do next.

He had been a sugar baby for long enough to understand. He knew how this worked. He wasn’t some young twenty-something who would fall in love, he wasn’t inexperienced. He knew exactly how the arrangement would lay out, and he didn’t go into it looking for something else.

Junmyeon didn’t do relationships. Never had, not since he was a teenager. They were too much of a hassle, and he hated the emotional aspect, the weakness, the way a single person could have that much of an effect on him. He hated the very thought of dating and romantic attachment if he was honest.

But he still wanted to get fucked, and he wasn’t very keen on one-night stands. Fuck buddies from his social circle were too complicated as well. A Sugar Daddy was the perfect answer. Regular sex. No relationship. And money. He enjoyed the money.

Plus, he avoided the emotional devastation of a breakup. If a sugar daddy left, it was like losing a job. He could get over it, even though it sucked. The downside was he kept it a secret from most people around him, but at the same time, it was business. Nothing more, nothing less. It allowed him a regular sex life, free of romantic attachment, and flush with cash. A win-win in his books.

He sighed and reached for his laptop. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to put his profile settings on public again and see if he could find someone new. A date would be nice and the deposit in his checking account even better.

It wasn’t too soon to open his profile back up, mainly since he was very selective. Best to get his profile out there now so he could spend the next week or two sifting through and rejecting most men who contacted him.

He hoped he would find someone who stuck around for at least a year this time. It had been nice to have a constant for the past three years, he was getting too old to do the short-term thing. Hell, he was getting too old to do it all together, if some people were to be believed.

Thirty-five years old wasn’t ancient. Junmyeon took care of himself, was in better shape than most twenty-year-olds. He went to the dermatologist monthly; his skin was smooth with barely a wrinkle. He knew he was good looking, but he wasn’t young anymore. And rich men liked young things, he had learned.

But not all. Which is why Junmyeon hadn’t given up his part-time job yet. If there were still men out there that would have him, men he liked back, then he would continue. Being a Sugar Baby was a kind of addicting. Fine, it was a lot addicting. His bank account was a testament to it.

 

 

When he checked his messages that evening (while sitting in a coffee shop because he was kind of afraid not to give into Minseok’s pleas to get out of the house), he found three new messages. Two he dismissed right away, knowing it wouldn’t work out. But one caught his eye. _Oh Sehun._

He clicked on the profile, pursing his lips as he read. The bio wasn’t bad. Wasn’t asking for specific sexual elements, like some people did. It was short, to the point. The man’s occupation was listed as a professional, which Junmyeon knew translated to busy-as-fuck with no time for a real relationship. It didn’t matter beyond that. Lawyer, doctor, business exec. Half the time that was the drill, the reason men with high incomes went looking for people like Junmyeon. The other half of the time it was because they weren’t getting what they wanted in their marriage. Junmyeon avoided those cases. He wasn’t going to help some rich older guy cheat

Hobbies were listed as swimming, cars, and wine. Standard rich guy stuff and three things Junmyeon had learned too much about over the last decade. He could speak about a wine’s terroir without batting an eyelash now.

Oh Sehun had one picture on his profile, showing him with designer sunglasses on, blonde hair swept back, wearing a suit. He looked… _broad_ was the first word that came to Junmyeon’s mind. Broad shoulders, a gorgeous face. Junmyeon guessed he was tall, which was a bonus. Junmyeon liked them tall.

“I wonder how old he is,” Junmyeon mused. It was hard to tell from the picture. He could be anywhere from twenty-five to forty-five, the sunglasses obscuring too much of his face and his dyed hair not giving away any protentional grey hairs. Junmyeon guessed he was probably over forty, especially because Junmyeon made a point to say his age in his profile, and the trend was always for the sugar daddy to be on the older side.

Most men wanted someone younger. Junmyeon had come to accept it.

The message Sehun had sent was very to the point, almost comically. Junmyeon wasn’t sure exactly what to make of it, but it made him smile.

_You’re hot. I’m hot. Uh, wait, what else do I say? New to this. Anyway, shoot me a message or something. Bye._

New to this. Probably recently divorced, Junmyeon decided. There were plenty of wealthy divorcees on the site, alongside the married guys.

A quick Google search of the name didn’t turn up any results, but Junmyeon wasn’t surprised. Unless the man was a showy CEO, it wasn’t unusual to find very little about a prospective Sugar Daddy. A good share of rich men liked a degree of anonymity.

Junmyeon typed out a _Hey_ , the safest introduction of them all.

Two days and dozens of texts later, they had a meeting arranged.

 

 

 

It was standard Sugar Daddy first meeting fare. A fancy restaurant in the best part of town. A later time, because Sehun was probably in his office until late in the evening. Junmyeon knew the drill. Dress nicely, but make sure he looked hot. That his trousers hugged him in just the right way, showing off his natural assets. Skip the tie and unbutton the first couple buttons allowing his skin to show. Be prepared not to go home that night if the dinner went well.

Junmyeon was used to it, so damn used to it he knew he would be the first to arrive (he was). He knew what wine to order to say hey-I’m-not-a-heathen. Hell, he knew which side of the table to sit on because the lighting would play up his features the best.

After over a decade of getting paid to be a beautiful companion to men too busy to care about much else but business and a good fuck, he had practically a book worth of knowledge. He was skilled. This would be a piece of cake, he knew it. Assuming Oh Sehun didn’t turn out to be a total creep or degenerate or was married because that would end things right away.

Junmyeon sipped his glass of wine, consciously making sure his posture was straight, that his shoulders weren’t tensed, that he looked like he was enjoying waiting for Mr. Millionaire to show up.

Ten minutes was not a long wait, he expected that. Twenty minutes either. Thirty minutes was fine. It was almost forty minutes past their arranged time when Junmyeon heard the hostess say, “Right this way, Mr. Oh.”

Junmyeon cleared his throat, preparing himself to meet his potential new Sugar Daddy. He squared his shoulders, put the smallest of smiles on his face. He knew he looked attractive, welcoming. He looked up, towards the tall man striding his way, the picture of confidence. The picture of….

Junmyeon blinked, immediately confused. The man walking towards him was not at all what he was expecting. Sure, he looked like his profile picture. Hair dyed blonde, broad shoulders. But he was dressed in a grey hoodie and tight jeans, converse sneakers on his feet. And one look at his face and Junmyeon knew the man wasn’t forty. Fuck, he probably wasn’t even thirty. Twenty-five was generous.

Junmyeon swallowed, feeling a rush of awkwardness descend over him. The carefully controlled demeanor he had worked so hard to perfect crumbled in that instance, at the sight of the man who smiled quickly at him before taking a seat.

“You didn’t wait long, I hope,” Sehun said casually, taking his cellphone out to silence it. His phone case was some animated character, someone Junmyeon didn’t recognize.

 Junmyeon would typically be saying ‘No, not at all,’ going into full flirt mode. But the only thing he could say now was “You’re—”

“Younger than you were expecting?” Sehun finished for him.

“Well, yeah,” Junmyeon readily admitted. He was pushing it age-wise as far as the whole arrangement came anyway, and it was kind of assumed that whoever wanted him would be older.

“You’re a little younger than I would like,” Sehun drawled, reaching for his wine glass.

Junmyeon’s jaw went slack. “Younger?”

“Hm.” Sehun nodded. “You don’t have a touch of grey. Unless you dye your hair, of course.”

Junmyeon instinctively touched his hairline, self-conscious. “I um, yeah I do dye it.”

“It looks nice.” Sehun reached for his wine glass, grabbing the bottle the incorrect way and pouring it sloppily.

“I’m sorry, but is this some sort of joke?” Junmyeon asked. He looked around. “Is this a hidden camera show? Are we being filmed?” Panic set in, his heart thundering in his chest. He suddenly felt so stupid. Of course, he was probably set up. He probably had annoyed Minseok so much he was paying him back tenfold.

“No,” Sehun said, leveling his gaze on Junmyeon. “Relax, okay. It isn’t a joke. Or at least I hope you don’t think my intentions are funny.”

Junmyeon furrowed his brow. _His intentions? Just what were they?_ He couldn’t begin to understand. The man sitting across from him was not even thirty. The more he looked at him, the more Junmyeon guessed he was twenty-five at the oldest. Prosperous twenty-five years old’s, in his experience, usually were not on Sugar Daddy websites, especially looking at thirty-five-year-old men’s profiles.

“Look, I’m twenty-three. Yes, I know, I’m young. No, I am not playing some joke,” Sehun began. He leaned forward, leveling Junmyeon with his gaze.

Junmyeon stared into his dark eyes, finding a depth there even with the short burst of eye contact. Oh Sehun’s eyes were expressive, hooded by a prominent brow, thick eyebrows rising at the corners as he spoke.

Sehun’s jaw was set firm, letting Junmyeon know he was nothing but serious. “I’m not older, but I have money. A lot of it. And I know what I want, which is someone mature. Because I’m not, at least in certain areas. I can hold a good job, but I don’t have time to hook up with someone my own age, because people my age, me included, can be fucking stupid. And no, before you even ask, I don’t have a daddy kink, and the grey hair thing was a joke. I just want someone who knows themselves, who knows how life works a little. Who isn’t going to make this into something it’s not. And I was hoping that someone might be you, if we click, that is.” Sehun swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. A flash of vulnerability appeared as he waited for Junmyeon to react.

Junmyeon looked down, eyes dancing around the carefully folded napkin, the pristine tablecloth, the bottle of wine _. A younger man_. He had never considered it. Never weighed the pros and cons because it was never a reality he had to consider. Not until now. And he had no idea how he should react. The least he could do, he thought, was be polite while he mentally hashed out the rest of the arrangement.

Junmyeon took a deep breath, nodding. “Okay, I understand.” _And thank god this isn’t some Daddy Kink thing_ , he said mentally. Because he would be gone in a second. “Sorry for my reaction.”

“No, it’s fine.” Sehun shook his head and smiled. “Really, I was expecting it.”

Junmyeon relaxed. “It was still rude of me.”

“I’ll forgive you, but just this once,” Sehun drawled. There was an edge to his voice that Junmyeon liked. It was confidence beyond his years, which Junmyeon found infinitely sexy (even while his brain swirled in a chaotic mess of what-ifs). “Did you order yet?”

Junmyeon shook his head. “I was waiting for you.”

“Have you been here before?” Sehun asked. He maintained eye contact, that steady gaze that had Junmyeon feeling a faint heat stir in his stomach. Sehun was nice to look at, Junmyeon could admit. A well-defined brow, high cheekbones, and a jawline that most men would kill (or pay good money) for. His looks fit Junmyeon’s type, checking off the boxes of his theoretical perfect-man list.

“Yes,” Junmyeon answered.

“Please order for both of us. I will eat anything except for tomatoes, cucumbers, processed sugars, cheese fermented longer than one year, pastas made with flour created outside the country, ham, all poultry but turkey, and asparagus,” Sehun rattled off.

Junmyeon nodded slowly. “O-okay.” He plastered a smile on his face.

The waiter showed up a few moments later, menus in hand. They were in French, which Junmyeon didn’t exactly know how to read. But he knew what he had ordered before, what Yifan had liked, and what other men had bought him. So, he picked two things, one having none of the things Sehun had listed (hopefully), handing the menus back to the waiter with a smile.

Once the waiter was gone, Sehun asked a pointed question. “So…. is my age a turn-off to you?”

Junmyeon thought carefully. Honestly, he had never considered entering into an arrangement with someone much younger than him. It had never crossed his mind it was a possibility. Was that a problem? Well, they were both consenting adults. And twelve years was a big age gap, but not _that big_. He wouldn’t be the same age as Sehun’s father, for example. Hell, theoretically they could be put in the same generation, albeit on opposite ends.

He imagined what it would be like to sleep with someone Sehun’s age (honestly, the idea kind of excited him, the thought crossing his mind that someone that much younger probably had a hell of a lot more energy in the bedroom). But their arrangement wasn’t only about the bedroom. What if Sehun was the type who wanted more social meetings, like at parties? Could he do it? With someone that much younger? What kind of events would he be taken to?

“Your silence is scaring me,” Sehun said, looking at Junmyeon intently.

“No, sorry. I was thinking.” Junmyeon swallowed. “No, it isn’t a turnoff. It’s just unexpected. I guess I never expected someone younger to actually want me to, well, _you know_.”

“Get paid to hang out?” Sehun finished for him.

 _So, was that what kids called it these days?_ Junmyeon thought. “Yes.”

“Honestly, after seeing you, I would be an idiot for letting this opportunity go. You’re beautiful,” Sehun said slowly, eyes flickering lower, away from Junmyeon’s face, to the place where his top two buttons were undone.

Junmyeon felt heat creep up his chest and neck, which was ludicrous. Was he really getting hot and bothered from something so… small as being admired? It wasn’t like him. He was usually carefully controlled in these situations, not showing a reaction unless it was to his benefit. He wasn’t sure turning red in front of Oh Sehun had any real advantage. At least not yet.

Junmyeon cleared his throat. “Thank you. You, um, you too,” he managed, suddenly feeling shy. What the hell was happening to him?

“Thanks. I’ve been told I have it where it counts,” Sehun leaned forward, words spoken low.

Junmyeon felt his jaw go slack. “Oh?”

“Hmmm,” Sehun hummed.

The mental image of Sehun fucking him over the table flashed in Junmyeon’s mind, his dick twitching at the thought. Sehun, hoodie stripped off, broad shoulders, dick working Junmyeon open with forceful thrusts.

Junmyeon reached for his glass of water, his mouth suddenly parched. “Good to know.”

 

 

Sehun didn’t fuck him over the restaurant table that night, thank god. That would have had them both banned for good, and Junmyeon had a thing for their Soupe à l’oignon. No, what occurred was Sehun inviting him over and Junmyeon agreeing, knowing exactly where the entire thing was going, any reservations about the arrangement thrown to the wind.

Sehun drove a red Aston Martin DB9, and he knew how to push it. Junmyeon gripped his seatbelt and bit back his words, wanting very much to tell Sehun to slow down and “For god’s sake, brake a little sooner will you.”

Junmyeon tried to distract himself from passenger seat anxiety by guessing what type of place Sehun lived in. He was apparently loaded, the car said as much. But what did he do? How could someone his age have that much money? He had to be a trust fund kid to already have the means to buy such a ridiculously showy car, which meant he probably had a ridiculously flashy apartment too.

Junmyeon rattled off the names of all the high-end hotels and buildings in his head, trying to take a guess which one Sehun lived in. He didn’t seem like a Royal Palms guy. And he probably wouldn’t fit in with the Gold Seasons set either. Maybe he stayed in the new building that went up the year before, M something…. Junmyeon had never been there, but he knew from word of mouth it was trendy, a little artsy and more popular with the younger crowd.

He was surprised when Sehun sped past the downtown area, away from the high-rise buildings that Junmyeon had assumed would contain his residence.

“What neighborhood do you live in?” Junmyeon finally asked, beyond curious. Every man he had an arrangement with had lived within a ten-square-mile radius of downtown, near enough the financial district and their businesses (not counting their vacation homes or overseas properties, of course) to make it convenient.

Sehun named one of the older, original neighborhoods of the city, a good forty-five minutes’ drive from downtown. Junmyeon pursed his lips, staring out the window. Okay, he thought. So Oh Sehun was unexpected in more ways than one.

 

 

The house was behind a tall brick wall, with big iron gates crossing over the drive. Sehun had to punch in a code, the gates opening long enough for him to drive inside, closing slowly after him. Junmyeon spied security cameras near the entrance, tucked discreetly among the landscaping, tiny dots of red flashing among the foliage.

The building was brick, large, on a slight incline. Shuttered windows and paned glass gave it a dated look, the impressive porch and covered circular drive made it look expensive in an old money sort of way. A moss-covered fountain near the entryway bubbled water lit from below.

Sehun pulled around the circular drive, stopping in front of the main entry and shutting off the car. Junmyeon was about to admonish him for leaving his car outside, when he spotted a uniformed servant stepping forward, reaching out to take Sehun’s keys.

Junmyeon alighted the vehicle, slipping his hands inside his pockets, feeling awkward. Most men he had been with had a doorman, an elevator operator. They would go up to their apartment, and within a few minutes, Junmyeon was usually bent over, having the life fucked out of him.

This was all new. The house away from downtown. The servant who was dressed in a uniform that looked like it would be right at home a hundred years ago. Oh Sehun, twelve years younger than Junmyeon, gesturing for him to follow him inside the house.

“This is your house? I mean, you live alone?” Junmyeon asked unable to hold back as he followed Sehun inside.

The entryway had marble floors, tall porcelain white Grecian urns flanking the main door. A watercolor in a gilded frame hung on the western wall, replete with a small plaque with the paintings name and artist. Junmyeon felt like he was entering a museum, not a home.

“Yeah. I mean, other than the servants, but they stay in a detached house. It works out better that way for all of us,” Sehun explained. He toed off his shoes, gesturing for Junmyeon to follow him. There were two pairs of ivory colored slippers waiting for them, placed neatly side by side.

“We can go up to my room,” Sehun said over his shoulder, walking into the grand foyer with Junmyeon on his heels. More marble. A staircase wider than any Junmyeon had ever seen. A crystal chandelier that probably cost more than most people make in their lives hung above.

Unexpectantly, Oh Sehun appeared to be the wealthiest man Junmyeon had ever had an arrangement with. _Damn._

 

 

Sehun’s room was an entire floor of the house, which judging by the décor of the areas Junmyeon had passed through, had been remodeled and modernized. It was decorated in a monochrome scheme, with large black leather couches, clean lines, and a three-way fireplace jutting out near the middle. Junmyeon’s eyes went wide at the size of Sehun’s bed, a four poster with black and grey bedding, sitting on a platform. He had never seen a bed so damn big before. It seemed beyond excessive.

The art on the walls were splashes of bright colors, abstract, canvases that covered up an exposed brick which had been painted white. Junmyeon had no doubt they were probably originals, not some high-end prints bought at a gallery downtown.

The room was tidy, albeit not immaculate. Junmyeon spotted a few sweatshirts thrown over the large black mid-century desk that sat next to the charcoal-colored armoire. There was a pile of books leaning up against one of the couches, and the door to what Junmyeon could only guess was a walk-in closet was half opened, a stray sock on the floor in front of it.

The floor was covered in black, grey, and white rugs, intricate designs that mimicked oriental patterns, but if they were slightly broken and turned on their head. Trendy, the entire thing was trendy, Junmyeon thought, and fucking expensive as hell.

“Okay, I have to ask, what is it you do for a living?” Junmyeon finally blurted it out, unable to hold back. In the end, as long as Sehun wasn’t some crazed mafia lord or something, it didn’t really matter to Junmyeon what he did. He wouldn’t have usually asked. Hell, he didn’t know Yifan’s job until three months into their arrangement. But this much wealth begged the question.

“I inherited a chunk of an investment firm from my grandparents,” Sehun explained, walking off towards the sitting area. “I don’t manage it, but it pays the bills. As far as what I do every day, I work in sales for a pharmaceutical company.”

So, Junmyeon had been right about the trust fund kid thing. At least partially. Sehun had a job, which was more than some rich kids he’d met in the past, men and women content to live off their family’s money without a care in the world.

Sehun plopped down on the sofa, long legs stretched out. “And no, my parents don’t live around here but I did grow up in this house. Took it over when they left for greener pastures. I don’t have a huge family, I actually had decent grades in college, and I have a dog, but he is banned from coming up here for the time being due to an unfortunate incident with my PlayStation. Anything else you want to know?”

Junmyeon shook his head. He was standing in the middle of the room, shifting his weight on his slippered feet. He felt not at all like he expected to feel. He was like a broken record, reminding himself how things usually went. He should be offering to get wine, smiling coyly over his shoulder, or being bold if he thought it would have the best results. He should be controlled, but he wasn’t.

Instead, he was staring around a room, an hour away from his apartment, marveling at a stray sock peeking out from a closet door. It was ridiculous.

“Great. Then come here.” Sehun patted his lap, smirking.

And _oh_ , Junmyeon could do this. This felt a little more like normal. It brought him relief because he knew exactly what to do next.

Junmyeon padded over, the slippers sliding against the expensive rugs. Sehun tilted his head back, neck exposed, watching Junmyeon through half-lidded eyes.

Junmyeon could admit Oh Sehun was attractive. Fuck, he was downright hot. His lap looked more than a little inviting, and his neck a little more than kissable. Junmyeon didn’t hesitate to shuck his jacket off as he went, tossing it on the floor.

Junmyeon stopped in front of Sehun, a brief moment of hesitation, a few seconds to just look.

“Well?” Sehun asked, patting his lap once again.

The fabric that hugged Junmyeon’s thighs slid against Sehun’s rough jeans. Junmyeon’s hands quickly found Sehun’s broad shoulders, palms smoothing up the soft jersey of Sehun’s sweatshirt as he straddled him.

Sehun let out a breath, somewhere between a sigh and a noise of contentment. And for some fucking reason that made heat creep into Junmyeon’s cheeks.

They were close. Junmyeon could smell the cologne Sehun wore, a cheaper brand that Junmyeon’s college roommate had favored. He could feel the lean muscle of Sehun’s legs, appreciate just how fucking broad his shoulders were.

Sehun’s hands went to Junmyeon’s waist, smoothing down his sides to his ass, palming the cheeks with a squeeze. Junmyeon knew he had a nice ass, it wouldn’t be the first time one of his arrangements groped him on the first meeting. But it would be the first time he let out a small whine at the act. He bit his bottom lip in embarrassment, cheeks flushing.  

Sehun ignored his embarrassment. “Can I kiss you?” Sehun asked, looking up with hungry eyes.

Junmyeon nodded, leaning in, more than ready to see what Oh Sehun could give him.

Sehun’s lips were insistent, a hot press that had Junmyeon readily parting his lips. When Sehun licked inside Junmyeon’s mouth, Junmyeon leaned in, tilting his head, deepening the lip lock.

Sehun was a good kisser, his tongue sliding just the right way before he sucked Junmyeon’s bottom lip into his mouth.

Junmyeon moaned, rocking forward. Sehun continued to squeeze his ass, palming it, pressing Junmyeon into the kiss.

Junmyeon could feel his body reacting, his dick twitching with interest. When Sehun broke the kiss to suck and nimble along Junmyeon’s jaw, he tilted his head back, reveling in the sensation.

Junmyeon carded his fingers through Sehun’s hair, enjoying the feeling of Sehun’s lips on his skin, the slow drag, the grazes of Sehun’s teeth against the column of his neck.

Sehun’s hand roamed to Junmyeon’s hip bone, then slid up his side. Junmyeon loved the feel of it, of Sehun’s wide palms tracing against the fabric of his shirt, smoothing lower to his hips.  

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Sehun husked, fingers pressing into Junmyeon’s waist.

He could say the same thing, but at the moment he was too lost in the way Oh Sehun’s hands felt on his body, the way his voice made his cock strain against the fabric of his pants.

Junmyeon removed his fingers from Sehun’s hair, grazing his nails gently along Sehun’s scalp as he detached himself. He went to work on the buttons of his dress shirt, fingers fumbling in a vain attempt to match the speed of his growing arousal.

“Let me,” Sehun said, voice low. He reached out, and with what seemed like minimal exertion parted the front of Junmyeon’s shirt with a yank, a few buttons flying onto the sofa.

“My shirt––” Junmyeon started. It wasn’t cheap, he had that one tailored for him.

“Hyung, I’ll give you one of mine,” Sehun said, palms pushing the fabric back, around Junmyeon’s shoulders.

Junmyeon froze, mind tunneling into a single word. “What did you just call me?” Junmyeon asked, licking his bottom lip. Of course, they were both of Korean descent, he knew that, but he hadn’t expected to hear the word escape Oh Sehun’s lips. Not at that moment, not after they had conversed half the night.

Hearing it then seemed…. Junmyeon swallowed thickly. _Fuck._ He had never considered the term erotic before.

Sehun raised an eyebrow. His cheeks were dusted red, and Junmyeon lost focus for a moment.

“ _Hyung_. Can’t I call you that?”

Junmyeon nodded, feeling adrift. The term wasn’t unusual, it was the way Sehun practically purred it. Junmyeon had never found the name particularly attractive, it just existed, nothing more. But suddenly, hearing it come out of Sehun’s kiss-swollen lips, it sounded like heaven on earth.

Sehun went back to work, pulling the hem of Junmyeon’s undershirt, tugging up. Junmyeon moved with him, raising his arms so Sehun could slip the shirt over his head. The shirt ended up on the floor, just as Junmyeon’s fingers tugged at Sehun’s sweatshirt.

“Your turn,” Junmyeon said, earning a smile from Sehun.

Sehun was compliant. Junmyeon leaned back and gave Sehun room to peel off the grey hoodie and throw it to join Junmyeon’s discarded undershirt.

Junmyeon’s line of vision was momentarily obscured by a blur of grey. He blinked, then stilled, eyes raking down Sehun’s chest, to his abdomen. _And holy shit._

Oh Sehun wasn’t just broad, he was built. His chest and abdomen were toned, and suddenly Junmyeon’s mind went completely blank. He was pulled back to reality by Sehun pressing his finger into Junmyeon’s middle, trailing it upwards.

“I think we can both appreciate what the other has,” Sehun said, the tip of his tongue darting out to swipe along his bottom lip.

Junmyeon felt heat creep up his neck. “At least we have the top half down,” Junmyeon said, reaching out to steady himself on Sehun’s shoulders, firmly planting himself back on the younger man’s lap.

Sehun’s full palms went to Junmyeon’s sides, squeezing lightly. “Hmmm, true.”

Junmyeon initiated the kiss this time, licking into Sehun’s mouth, tilting his head so he could gain better access. He moved his hips in a slow drag, rolling them against Sehun’s lap, feeling a measure of satisfaction when he felt Sehun’s erection press against him.

“What do you like?” Sehun’s words fell raw, unbridled against the column of Junmyeon’s neck. “ _Hyung_ , what should I do?”

It was the first time Junmyeon remembered being asked first. It was usually him doing the asking, ready to entertain whatever his Sugar Daddy might want of him assuming it wasn’t anything on his no-way-in-hell list. This was new. All of it. The younger man, the question–– and it left Junmyeon feeling like he was in unexplored territory. Yet he didn’t want to change it, excited at how new it felt. At how foreign it all was.  

Sehun’s hands went back to his ass, squeezing. “ _Hyung_ ,” he whispered, grazing his teeth along the expanse of Junmyeon’s throat. _That word again_. Junmyeon felt like it was driving him mad.

Junmyeon let out a raspy breath, not sure he could form coherent words to explain. It was ridiculous how turned on he was given how little foreplay had occurred. He prided himself in being able to last long, the heat not building so early.

Anticipation thrummed in Junmyeon’s veins, without even knowing what was next. “W-what do _you_ want?” he managed to get out, hands smoothing along Sehun’s shoulders.

Sehun’s tongue dipped into the hollow of Junmyeon’s collarbone. “I want to fuck you, Hyung. But only if you want me to.”

“Yes, please.” Junmyeon gave in so easily, fingers pressing into Sehun’s skin, turning it pink. “Please.”

He knew he sounded so needy, so desperate, and it wasn’t like him. None of it was, not like this, not without calculating the exact moment he should beg, should whine, the exact moment that would fuel his partner’s ego to powerful effect. It was sloppy, but he didn’t want to hold back.

Sehun didn’t want to either, judging by the way his arm wrapped around Junmyeon’s waist, pulling him close. His other arm grabbed Junmyeon’s ass, and before Junmyeon could react, he was being lifted, turned, ending up with his back pressed onto the sofa, Oh Sehun on top of him.

From there it was a hazy, Sehun pressing into him, their chests meeting, their hands wandering. Junmyeon raked marks down Sehun’s back while Sehun left blotches of red on Junmyeon’s chest, on his shoulder. Sehun whispered words of praise, worshiping Junmyeon’s body in a way that made it seem like they hadn’t just met.

It was dizzying, driving Junmyeon to let out little moans of pleasure, losing himself to Sehun’s voice, to the repetition of that newly sinful word that spilled from Sehun’s lips. Junmyeon hooked his leg around Sehun’s, chasing friction as he rolled his hips upwards, grinding into Sehun’s hardness.

Junmyeon arched his back up, moving the moment Sehun’s fingers started to tug at the waistband of his pants. He wanted them off, he _needed_ them off.

Sehun’s moved back. “Come here,” he said, voice cracking.

Junmyeon sat up, the leather couch creaking under him. Sehun was already on his feet and once Junmyeon was standing, Sehun’s chest eye level with him, he could only suck in a breath of frustration. Sehun was tall. And fuck if Junmyeon didn’t have a thing for that.

Sehun leaned down, capturing Junmyeon’s lips in a kiss, sucking Junmyeon’s bottom lip into his mouth. Junmyeon reached, arms going to Sehun’s neck, pulling him in. Sehun palmed Junmyeon’s ass, squeezing hard, kneading.

“Take them off, or I swear to god I will rip them off you,” Sehun husked, breaking the kiss.

Junmyeon’s fingers fumbled as he tried to unbutton and unzip. One try, then two before he was pushing the fabric of his pants down his hips, taking his boxers with them. His cock sprang free, hard and leaking.

Sehun stepped back and watched, eyes moving down, then up, taking in all Junmyeon had to offer.

Junmyeon kicked his pants off, standing naked, eyes meeting Sehun’s. Any show of modesty was beyond them. Junmyeon swallowed, eyes going to the very prominent bulge in Sehun’s jeans.

“They’re all yours,” Sehun said, gesturing towards his jeans.

Junmyeon took it as a sign of what to do next. He moved to kneel before Sehun, but much to his surprise the younger man stopped him, lightly grabbing his arm.

Junmyeon looked up at him, Sehun shaking his head. “Hyung, no. I taste first.”

And fuck, Junmyeon braced himself.

Sehun smirked awkwardly, letting Junmyeon’s arm go long enough to unbutton his jeans. Sehun pushed his jeans down in one swift movement, his hard dick suddenly revealed.

Junmyeon sucked in his bottom lip at the sight, the size queen in him unable to be silenced.

“You’re huge,” Junmyeon said, unthinking.

Sehun wasn’t kidding when he had said he had it where it counts. Junmyeon had seen his fair share of big dicks before but what Sehun was packing was something new.

“Thanks. Not bad yourself,” Sehun murmured, kicking his jeans away.

Junmyeon felt his abdomen tighten at the thought of Sehun inside of him, fucking him open with _that_.

“Come here,” Sehun breathed, reaching for Junmyeon.

Junmyeon moved into another heated kiss, losing himself in it.

He wasn’t sure when he ended up on the sofa, when Sehun started to suck marks into the inside of his thighs. He was so far gone by the time Sehun began to tease with his tongue, along the slit of Junmyeon’s hardness, then lower, licking along his perineum.

The first press of Sehun’s tongue to his hole had Junmyeon keening, legs spread wide, Sehun’s fingers bruising against his thighs. He could count on one hand how many of his Sugar Daddies had ever eaten him out and none of them had made him feel like this.

Junmyeon crumbled under the sensation of Oh Sehun’s tongue, circling his rim and pressing against his puckered hole.

Sehun hummed, like it was his pleasure, lapping along before moving his fingers to spread Junmyeon open. Sehun flicked his tongue, then pressed, pushing it inside in an action that had Junmyeon crying out, losing himself.

He felt drunk, lost in a fog, a hum of pleasure that was entirely unexpected. Not like this. Not without being fucked. Junmyeon felt the coil start to tense, too soon, way too soon.

“Sehun,” he gasped, back arching. “Please.”

His pleas weren’t unheard. A minute later Junmyeon found himself bent over the back of the sofa, Sehun working his lubed fingers in him. His fingers were long, hitting Junmyeon in all the right places.

Junmyeon’s nails raked against the leather. He bit his bottom lip, willing himself to last. If he came like this, he would be mortified. They hadn’t even fucked.

“You’re tight,” Sehun whispered, driving another finger into Junmyeon.

Junmyeon swallowed thickly, fixating on the abstract painting that was eye level across the room from him. He tried to ignore the way Sehun pressed his fingers in just right, pulling them out before driving them home again.

“I love your ass,” Sehun husked, landing a playing slap across one cheek.

Junmyeon whined and looked over his shoulder, suddenly feeling his muscles tense as Sehun pulled his fingers out.

“Ready, Hyung?” Sehun asked. Junmyeon guessed he knew the answer.

“Yeah.”

Junmyeon heard the condom wrapper rip, anticipation coiling in his stomach. He was so close, so fucking close and he hadn’t even been properly fucked yet.

Sehun’s hand smoothed over Junmyeon’s ass, to his back, settling on his waist. When he felt Sehun’s cock head tease against his entrance, Junmyeon bit back a moan.

Sehun entered him slowly, his thick cocking pressing inside of Junmyeon and filling him in a way that made Junmyeon feel like pleasure and pain were welcome bedfellows. He braced himself, sucking in breaths as Sehun moved deeper inside.

“Hyung, are you okay?”

Junmyeon nodded, waiting.

And then Sehun was fully seated, balls deep. Junmyeon had never felt such a full stretch, had never felt so stuffed. His arms shook as he adjusted to the sensation of being so full. When Sehun pulled back, Junmyeon chased the action.

When Sehun pressed back in, Junmyeon saw white.

Sehun fucked him bent over the back of the couch, thick cock driving Junmyeon forward, his abs rolling along the leather. Junmyeon cried out, not caring what spilled from his mouth as he was fucked open by the biggest cock he had ever taken.

“So good, so good,” Sehun whispered praises, his words taking on a different tone as he drove harder, as he fucked faster.

Junmyeon urged him on, with broken pleas that turned into cries, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He let Sehun take him to a place he dared never imagine, to a trail of fire, tears beginning to well as his cock leaked against the expensive leather of Oh Sehun’s couch, smearing into him as he was fucked harder against the furniture.

It couldn’t last long, not like this, not for Junmyeon. He let out a broken moan as he felt the heat in his middle tighten then release, the warmth spreading as he came. He tensed then fell forward, Sehun pounding him from behind, gripping his hips.

It wasn’t long before Sehun was saying that word like a mantra, “Hyung, Hyung, Hyung,” bucking his hips in a stuttered motion before stilling, collapsing over Junmyeon as he came hard and fast.

Junmyeon gasped, sucking in a deep breath. Sehun rocked into him, spilling into the condom as they both caught their breaths. When Sehun pulled out, Junmyeon whined, a noise he wasn’t used to making at that juncture. His legs felt shaky, and he wasn’t sure he could stand. He heard Sehun move away, guessed he was tying off the condom and tossing it out.

“Come on, I’ll clean you up,” Sehun said, voice still raw and husky.

Junmyeon let the younger man pick him up, carrying him bridal style towards the bathroom.

He felt sleepy, fucked out, boneless. Sehun was gentle, washing him, placing soft kisses on his brow before carrying him back into the room and laying him on the bed.

“Are you okay sleeping here?” Sehun asked.

Junmyeon nodded, already drifting off.

The last thing he remembered was the feeling of Sehun slipping into bed next to him, his arm going around Junmyeon’s waist, holding him close.

 

Two things dawned on Kim Junmyeon the next morning. Firstly, his ass had never hurt that much after being fucked, and he had been fucked a lot because hell, he had a pretty healthy libido and most of the men he had been within the past did too. But this, what Sehun was packing, wrecked him in a new way. A good way, because even if he was sore, it had been so worth it.

Secondly, that had been the best fuck of his life. And that was saying something (reference his first realization).

When he opened his eyes, wincing before settling into the soft mattress, he felt a type of sated that he had never experienced before. A variety of sated that, within five minutes of lying there, remembering the night prior, morphed into a hunger that was a bit disturbing in its intensity.

Arrangements weren’t like this, not usually. Junmyeon didn’t wake up the next day craving their cock, he woke up the next day, checked his bank account on his phone, smiled to himself, and rolled over to sleep more.

But this wasn’t the usual.

“You’re awake?”

Junmyeon looked over to see Sehun standing near the bathroom door, a towel slung low on his hips, his hair wet and slicked back.

Junmyeon nodded, swallowing thickly. He felt his cock hardening at the sight of Sehun, broad chest and wide shoulders, narrow waist, and _those legs_.

Sehun didn’t break eye contact as he dropped the towel, letting it pool on the floor. He knew exactly what he was doing, and just what it would do to Junmyeon.

“Good, because I want to fuck you again,” Sehun said casually, strolling towards the bed.

There was no way in hell Junmyeon was going to say no, even if he was going to have to ask Sehun to go a little easy on him this time.


	2. Chapter 2

Four days later, Junmyeon received a text from Sehun. His phone buzzed just as he was about to sit down to catch up on a few shows he’d missed over the week. The message was an address, which he quickly looked up.

A bar. Okay. So, it wasn’t unheard of that he would meet his hookups at a bar before they retreated to a hotel room or an apartment with a killer view of the city. Or in the case of Oh Sehun, a house outside of the city that looked like it belonged on some glitzy overly dramatic soap opera full of amnesia plotlines and gaudy fur coats.

Junmyeon scrolled up the bar webpage, noting it looked casual. He pulled on a pair of jeans (tight because what else would he wear when meeting Sehun), a t-shirt, and a black jacket. He dragged a smidge of styling gel in his hair, spending a few minutes in front of the mirror attempting to right the hairstyle wrongs he had committed by laying on the couch and watching television.

He had to admit a sort of excitement thrummed low in his stomach at the thought of meeting Oh Sehun again, and honestly, it wasn’t surprising he was so eager. Sehun had paid well, _very well_. Junmyeon had been more than pleased with the hefty deposit into his account a few hours after Sehun had dropped him off from their first meeting. A second payment that large would put Junmyeon’s early retirement dreams a little closer.

“Who knew young guys paid so well,” Junmyeon mused, grabbing his keys and heading for the door.

 

 

 

Junmyeon wished he had brought earplugs. When he walked into the bar he was immediately assaulted by the jarring screech of a guitar, the amp crackling and pulsing. He winced, turning away from the stage where a handful of men dressed in tight leather and ripped up t-shirts were thrashing on their instruments.

His past Sugar Daddies had invited him out for drinks, but never at a place like this. Usually, it was somewhere quiet, a high-end bar or club uptown, a place where wealthy men could go without worrying about the hassle of being judged for their behavior or what company they kept.

This...this place, Junmyeon surmised, looked like it was filled mostly with college students. It smelled like cheap beer and sweat, and it was loud. Too loud.

“You made it.”

Junmyeon had been too busy looking around the place to notice Sehun approach. He jolted at the greeting, before smiling warmly. _Control_ , he reminded himself. He knew how to do this. He didn’t want to slip up like their last meeting, losing what hold he had on the situation and ending up feeling lost and confused.

Sehun stood before him, wearing tight jeans, a white t-shirt, and a leather jacket. Junmyeon felt a lump form in his throat at the coat, his mind instantly going to what it would feel like to dig his fingers into Sehun’s broad shoulders, the leather crackling under his touch.

Junmyeon looked away and cleared his throat. “Where are we?”

“Kelly’s, also known as the only bar that has good music and still lets me in,” Sehun drawled. Junmyeon wasn’t sure he wanted to know why other bars wouldn’t let Sehun in.

“Killer Instinct,” Sehun explained, pointing towards the stage. “Haven’t seen them in forever. They’re fucking good.”

Junmyeon tilted his head to the side, appraising the band. They were undoubtedly...a colorful lot. The lead singer had at least a dozen piercings on different parts of his face, and a bright orange mohawk spiked up to almost a foot. The other band members were similarly adorned, piercings, dark clothing, lots of skulls and tattoos.

Sehun reached forward, gripping Junmyeon’s wrist lightly, wide hands closing over Junmyeon’s thin wrist. “I have a table over there,” Sehun explained.

Junmyeon nodded and followed him. It was hard to maneuver through the crowd of people, some staggering into their way, others bumping into them as they were dancing. By the time they reached the pub table, Junmyeon was sure he had at least half a beer on him, soaked into his jacket. Good thing he hadn’t worn something more expensive.

Sehun slipped into his seat, Junmyeon doing his best to ignore the discomfort of a soaked jacket as he sat across from him.

Sehun leaned over the table, folding his arms on the top, shoulders jutting up. “It’s nice to see you again, _Hyung_ ,” he said, close enough where his voice could drop a register. “I guess this means you’re interested in more?”

Junmyeon was aware that this should be the moment he was outrageously flirtatious, maybe sipping his drink in a way that would have the man across from him fixated on his lips. Usually, he would smile, perhaps even utter a challenge that would end up in the bedroom.

But sitting in the crowded bar, with beer on his coat and a leather jacket-clad Sehun across from him, he couldn’t think of a single intelligent, provocative thing to say. So instead he nodded, dumbly, which earned a smirk from Sehun. And mentally tallied that he had lost it again, his control nowhere to be found.

“I haven’t seen this band forever, “Sehun gestured towards the stage. “And no one would come with me.”

“So I’m your last option?” Junmyeon blurted out, feeling a sting of _something_ in his chest.

“Well, I mean, I would have called you over after the show anyway…” Sehun shrugged. “I wasn’t sure punk was your thing.”

It isn’t, Junmyeon thought. But that wasn’t what he was getting paid for. “It’s okay,” he settled with.

“Great, let’s dance.” Sehun was up in an instant, grabbing Junmyeon’s wrist yet again. Junmyeon let himself be led towards the stage, towards the mass of people who were...dancing, if you could call jumping around and thrashing their head that.

Junmyeon felt out of place, but he followed Sehun’s lead. He would get paid handsomely for it, he reminded himself. It was about the money. It always had been with him.

 

 

Junmyeon fell against Sehun, both men laughing, their faces flushed, hair messy and sweat soaked. Junmyeon sucked in the fresh night air, overheated, running on the pure adrenaline.

Sehun and Junmyeon had danced for almost half an hour, jumping around, being stupid, before getting a drink. And then they were back at it, knocking into each other, laughing, thrashing their heads to the music before slipping outside to cool down.

“Hyung, you were great,” Sehun drawled, his hand slipping across Junmyeon’s back.

“Okay that was fun,” Junmyeon admitted. He would be sore the next day, he was sure his neck would need a massage or two, but still. It was worth it. Flailing around like an idiot, not caring what other people thought of him.

“I’m glad you came,” Sehun said, breathing still ragged from their dancing. “Still up to going to my house?”

Junmyeon smiled and nodded. “Yeah.” He was more than ready for part two of the evening and the additional activities it may bring.

 

 

The journey to Sehun’s bedroom was slow, their progress affected by the fact they were all over each other, necking in the hallway, Sehun grabbing Junmyeon’s ass while Junmyeon had his own fun palming at Sehun’s crotch.

When they staggered into the room, their jackets had already been discarded somewhere in the hall. Sehun’s pants were unzipped, and Junmyeon’s shirt was rucked up, ready to be torn off and tossed onto the floor.

“Hyung,” Sehun drawled, hands smoothing up Junmyeon’s sides. “Let’s take a shower.”

And _oh_ , Junmyeon had forgotten how gross they both were. How much sweat had trickled down his back as he jumped around like an idiot at the bar. A shower sounded like an excellent idea, for practical reasons as well as _um_ , other reasons.

“Okay,” Junmyeon agreed, an image of Sehun fucking him against the shower door playing in his mind.

Sehun lead him to the master bathroom, which Junmyeon had seen during his previous visit. The room was predictably huge, monochrome, with state-of-the-art fixtures and perfectly folded towels that Junmyeon was sure Sehun hadn’t folded himself.

The shower could probably fit five people, Junmyeon thought, watching as Sehun turned on the two shower heads. There was a marble bench, dark marble walls, an overhead shower head that mimicked rain and another, more traditional shower head that could be angled a dozen different ways.

Sehun stepped back from the shower, his hands going to his shirt, quickly peeling it off and tossing it towards the double vanity.

Junmyeon couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on Sehun’s chest, on his abdomen, appreciating the sight (even if he had spent a good deal of time soaking it in the last time they were together). Sehun smirked, knowing full well Junmyeon was watching him.  He didn’t say anything, but his slower actions gave it away.

When Sehun moved his pants lower, his already erect cock springing free, Junmyeon felt a rush of blood to his middle. His body remembered how it felt to have Sehun in him, and Junmyeon couldn’t forget the mind-blowing orgasms Sehun had drawn out of him. It would be an overstatement to say he craved it, craved what Sehun could give him.

“Your turn,” Sehun drawled, turning around and stepping into the shower.

Junmyeon watched, swallowing thickly. Sehun might have spent a good five minutes talking about how nice of an ass Junmyeon had the last time they met, but Sehun didn’t disappoint in that department either. Junmyeon had a sudden urge to leave a few marks there.

Junmyeon slipped out of his pants and kicked them towards the sink, sliding into the shower next to Sehun. The water was already hot, steam rising to condensate on the smooth glass shower door.

Water streamed down, wetting Junmyeon’s hair and body as he turned towards Sehun.

Sehun leaned in, and Junmyeon met him halfway, arms going to Sehun’s shoulders, toes pressing down so they could lock lips. They kissed hurriedly like they were running out of time. Junmyeon would reason later it was pent up energy from the concert they had attended.

Their kiss was teeth hitting teeth, raw and bruising as wet skin slid against wet skin, Junmyeon’s back ending up pressed into the marble wall of the shower, his nails pressing crescents into Sehun’s shoulders.

Sehun was insistent, bold, mouth exploring every inch of Junmyeon he could, leaving pink marks that later would bloom a deep red and purple, showing anyone who dared see those parts of Junmyeon that Junmyeon was his and his alone. His hands roamed, caressing and kneading until Junmyeon was begging for more, begging for Sehun to work him open.

 Junmyeon hadn’t spotted the lubricant on the shower shelf until Sehun was squirting some onto his fingers.

“Hyung, face the wall,” Sehun ordered, tone confident and Junmyeon was only too happy to comply. He stuck his ass out, wiggling, earning a slap to one cheek that might have felt a little _too_ good.

Sehun worked him open with the same hurried pace, fingers teasing against Junmyeon’s rim just long enough, one finger turning into two the moment Junmyeon pressed back, asking for more.

When Sehun finally removed his fingers, leaving Junmyeon’s hole to clench around air, Junmyeon realized he was close. Uncomfortably close to. He whined, fingers sliding against the condensation of the shower wall.

And then he was being turned around, Sehun pulling him in for an open-mouthed kiss under the stream of the shower. Junmyeon missed the fact that Sehun had already put a condom on, didn’t register any of it until he was being lifted, arms around Sehun’s shoulder, hole suddenly meeting the head of Sehun’s cock.

“Did you––“ Junmyeon started, only to have Sehun nod and then press his hips forward, his cock breaching Junmyeon’s hole.

Junmyeon wrapped his legs around Sehun’s waist, his arms locked around Sehun’s neck. His back slid against the wet shower wall, head thrown back as he sucked in a breath, attempting to adjust himself to Sehun’s girth. Sehun pressed in slowly, Junmyeon burying his head in the juncture of Sehun’s neck and shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Sehun asked, waiting before he moved.

When Junmyeon whispered a raspy “yes,” Sehun pivoted upward, earning a throaty moan from Junmyeon.

The angle was insane, Sehun hitting his prostate dead on with every roll of his hips. Junmyeon whined, not wanting Sehun to stop but not wanting to come so soon either.

“ _Hyung_ , you’re so tight, clenching on me,” Sehun husked, fucking up harder.

Junmyeon couldn’t stop it, couldn’t prevent the tight coil in his middle from releasing, the spread of heat moving out to his limbs. He cried out, clenching around Sehun’s thick cock as he came.

“Fuck, Hyung,” Sehun whispered, driving up again. “Already? You’re so sensitive.”

And Junmyeon knew he could have told Sehun to stop, could have stopped the intermittent spasms that ripped through him as Sehun continued to fuck him. But he didn’t, pushing his body to the limit as he let Sehun fuck him hard against the shower wall, a bruising pace that pulled tears from his eyes, making him feel shaky and boneless.

When Sehun was close, he whispered the word and Junmyeon keened. “Hyung, so good for me. _Hyung_.”

Sehun came with a cry, his release pumping into the condom, hands gripping Junmyeon’s ass. Junmyeon clenched around him, muscles contracting through another bolt of pleasure that racked his overly sensitive body.

 

 

“I like when we shower together,” Sehun mused a few minutes later, as he kissed down Junmyeon’s now dry neck, a towel in his hands. “But being in bed together sounds nice too.”

“Hmm,” Junmyeon hummed, ready to go wherever Sehun might lead him next.

 

 

Sehun dropped Junmyeon off at his apartment around four in the morning, planting a kiss on Junmyeon’s cheek. It wasn’t until later, when Junmyeon was lying in bed, trying to get at least three hours of sleep before work, that it hit him.

Replaying the events of the night, he couldn’t help but segregate the time at the bar from the time at Sehun’s house. And when he took the sex out of it, he could honestly say he had a fantastic time (if he kept the sex in, well then it was merely mind-blowing). In fact, he didn’t think he’d ever had so much fun at one of his arranged meetings before. _Ever._

At least not this type of fun. Sure, there was fun in the bedroom, pleasure. But just dumb, carefree fun...this was a first. Usually, he spent meetings with his Sugar Daddies too focused on what he was doing, how he was coming across, how he would be perceived. Making the most impact in the least amount of time, the thought of a deposit to his bank account constantly blaring at the back of his head. But with Sehun he had let it all go, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. That Sehun could pull that out of him. And then fuck him better than any lover he had ever had before.

He sighed. He was overthinking everything again, assigning some kind of meaning where there was none. Putting Sehun on a pedestal, one that should never exist, to begin with, given the nature of their relationship.

“Must be because he’s so much younger. And he pays well,” Junmyeon muttered. “Everything seems new.”

He rolled over, shutting his eyes, deigning to fall asleep instead of dwell on Oh Sehun any longer.

 

 

Their next meeting was a week later, and it involved a shopping mall, which truth be told, Junmyeon wasn’t exactly pleased with. Yifan had always bought him tailored clothing, and the others usually just had something sent around to his apartment as a gift, knowing his size. Being dragged to a bustling Mall by his Sugar Daddy was an entirely foreign experience to him, and honestly, he wasn’t that big a fan of shopping malls to begin with.

Sehun seemed to find nothing wrong with taking him to a Mall full of teenage girls and Orange Julius stands, twining their hands together as he dragged Junmyeon into mid-range Department stores and Streetwear shops.

Sehun also seemed to find nothing wrong in periodic displays of affection, planting pecks on Junmyeon’s cheek as they wandered the mall, hands interwoven, never really letting Junmyeon out of his reach.

It felt too much like a cheesy date if Junmyeon was honest, and when the realization hit him, he clammed up. A cheesy date seemed too close to feelings, and Kim Junmyeon didn’t do feelings.

Sure, going to dinner with a Sugar Daddy felt like a date too, but this felt like…a _normal_ date. An innocent, well-meaning date without an implied give and take to finish it off. It didn’t feel like a dinner-before-I-fuck-the-life-out-of-you date, the kind Junmyeon was used to, the type Junmyeon was comfortable with. The clothes Sehun bought him weren’t to wear to a fancy party, and the meal of cheap fast food they had at the food court wasn’t a preamble to a blow job. In fact, Sehun told him he had an appointment that evening and would drop Junmyeon off at home after their shopping trip.

_I’m overreacting_ , Junmyeon told himself. _So what if it is different than what I am used to. Sehun is different than what I am used to. I am only feeling this way because he took me somewhere unexpected._

Sehun was perceptive, even if Junmyeon was trying, really trying, not to make it obvious. He finally sensed something was off as he held a hoodie up to Junmyeon, considering if it would look good on the older man.

“Hyung, what is it?” Sehun asked, setting the shirt back on the rack.

“Nothing,” Junmyeon said softly.

“Hey, you want to go somewhere quiet?” Sehun asked.

“Don’t you have an appointment?” Junmyeon reminded him.

“Ah, I forgot to tell you. They texted and canceled so I’m free.” Sehun reached for Junmyeon’s hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”  

Junmyeon was certain Sehun’s phone hadn’t gone off the entire time they were shopping, but he wasn’t going to point that out. He was too happy to be leaving the mall and whatever they had been doing behind.

 

 

“Want to go for a walk? We’re close to the river,” Sehun said as he started up the car.

“Can we go to your house? Or a hotel or something,” Junmyeon blurted out, not keen on finding himself somewhere that felt _off_ in terms of their arrangement. He didn’t want a long walk, he wanted to be fucked. “Please.”

It was bold to make such a request, but he needed to be bold. He wasn’t going to feel better until he fell into a familiar pattern. It wasn’t good form to be asking for something like this, not when he was getting paid to accompany Sehun. But he didn’t care about the risks, not then.

Sehun glanced over. “Yeah. Sure. If you want to.”

“I want to,” Junmyeon murmured.

 

 

An hour later Junmyeon was bent over Sehun’s bed, clawing into his grey sheets as Sehun drove into him at a brutal pace. Only then did Junmyeon start to feel like he had misunderstood the entire evening. Only then did Junmyeon’s mind settle back on bank account figures, leaving the thought of dates far behind him.  


At least for the night.

 

 

“Did your retirement stocks go up?” Minseok asked, raising his eyebrow at his best friend.

“Huh?” Junmyeon blinked in confusion. They were having lunch at a little hole-in-the-wall rib place that sat in the midpoint between their two offices. They usually made a point to go there at least once a week, because Minseok loved the ribs and it gave Junmyeon an excuse to not eat lunch with his co-workers, who got on his nerves if he didn’t have at least a momentary break from them during the day.

“You’ve been zoning out, staring at the pickled relish sign for the last two minutes. Either you found a new love for pickled relish or your stocks went up. That’s the only time you’re like this,” Minseok hummed, reaching for another helping of ribs.

Junmyeon shook his head. “Nah, they didn’t go up. I was just thinking.” _About Oh Sehun, and how he hasn’t called me in a week_ , Junmyeon finished in his head. Sehun had dropped him off at home in the early morning hours after their last meeting, leaving a very sizable amount in Junmyeon’s bank account an hour later.  Since then they had exchanged a handful of texts, but nothing in the last six days.

Junmyeon was starting to feel unsure, which was unlike him. Part of the reason he liked these arrangements is because they were so impersonal. He did his part, he got paid. Business. And their last meeting echoed in Junmyeon’s mind. The way he insisted they go back to Sehun’s house, the way he tried to mold the evening to fit what he knew, not what Sehun had in mind. Had he ruined any future meetings between them?

Had he been too pushy? Had he made a mistake that would end their arrangement?

Junmyeon sighed. It was utterly ridiculous how he was feeling. These types of arrangements could end up with Junmyeon not hearing from someone for a month. In Minho’s case it could be two, Yunho once went three months without contacting him. And Junmyeon was okay with it because they weren’t in a relationship. They didn’t really owe each other anything beyond the hookup and the payment, and he had never set a schedule with any of the people he had an arrangement with. They called him when they wanted to meet him, their call. He didn’t dwell on it or expect it. So why was he so bothered about the radio silence from Sehun?

Was it because he thought it was his fault? Junmyeon knew very well he hated to think he made a mistake and more than that he absolutely couldn’t stand an error he had zero ability to correct.

“Did you fuck up at work?” Minseok asked, shoveling coleslaw in his mouth. His best friend knew him too well, honing in on one of the few things that could have Junmyeon looking so pensive.

“What? No!” Junmyeon scowled. “Nothing’s wrong, okay.”

“Sure. You’re just thinking about nothing, staring off into space while there is a perfectly good plate of ribs in front of you. Completely believable, Jun.”

“I swear if you weren’t my best friend—”

“If I weren’t your best friend our apartment would be condemned, and you would be very lonely every time our favorite shows are on,” Minseok reminded him. “Since _I am_ your best friend, talk to me. I have best friend privilege when it comes to you thinking while staring at pickled relish signs. Spill it.”

Junmyeon looked down at his plate, sighing heavily. “It’s really nothing. It’s stupid.”

“I doubt that. Go on.”

“I found someone else, someone like Yifan. And they haven’t called me in a while, which is just––” Junmyeon sighed again. “It doesn’t matter, really. I don’t even know why I’m thinking about it. Maybe I’m just tired, yunno.”

“You’ve been sleeping ten hours a night all week. I doubt that,” Minseok quipped. “But it isn’t nothing, especially if you’re thinking about it. Maybe you found someone you actually like this time.”

Junmyeon opened his mouth to protest because firstly that made him sound like an unfeeling prick and secondly there was no way he liked Sehun since he barely knew him, but he was cut short by his phone vibrating. He grabbed at it, a little too eager and hopeful. Across the table, Minseok chuckled.

_[from: OS]_

_You free tonight?_

Junmyeon felt his heart thump erratically at the simple question.

_Yes._

_[from: OS]_

_I’ll pick you up at your apartment around 7._

Junmyeon typed his agreement, hitting send, a smile unconsciously tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“No big deal, huh,” Minseok drawled, dissolving into laughter when Junmyeon shot him the dirtiest look he could muster given his excitement.

 

 

 

Junmyeon suddenly missed having someone tell him what to wear. That was usually how it went before he met with his Sugar Daddy. Dress in a suit or dress casually. He was used to being given an idea of what the dress code might entail, assuming they were going out, or even have clothing delivered to him. When he asked Sehun what he should wear all he got in return was, “Preferably no underwear and whatever else is up to you. Tight pants though. Hyung your ass is amazing.”

It was no help. The term _Hyung_ had Junmyeon remembering Sehun whispering it in the filthiest of voices, which made him groan in frustration. And the rest, well tight pants could be dress pants or jeans or –– he sighed, flopping himself on his messy bed.

He eyed the pile of clothing Sehun had bought him during their last meeting. Even a “wear the red shirt” would be helpful.

He settled for tight jeans, a t-shirt, and a cotton jacket. Casual, but still nice. He just hoped they weren’t going somewhere with a dress code, or he’d be scrambling to figure out how to fit in.

Junmyeon waited by the front door, counting the minutes down until seven. He was happy Minseok wasn’t home yet because then he would have to make up some excuse about why he was so damn excited to meet Sehun. It was better for him to be confused about his reaction alone, not having to make up excuses to self and his best friend to downplay his excitement.

At seven, Junmyeon was staring at his phone. At seven ten he was frowning. A full-on pout was in place by seven twenty. At seven twenty-five, when his phone buzzed, he was out the door, almost forgetting to grab his keys.

He bounded down the steps of the apartment building two at a time, a little out of breath, face flushed, when he stepped outside.

A sleek black Aston Martin was waiting out front, the windows tinted so Junmyeon couldn’t see inside. He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to get in the wrong car.

The passenger window slid down, followed by a voice. “Hyung, it’s me.”

Junmyeon sucked in a breath at the term _Hyun_ g. He jogged over to the car, opening the door and sliding in.

“You’re cute when you’re confused,” Sehun said with a smile, reaching over to buckle Junmyeon’s seatbelt.

“I’m not cute, I’m twelve years older than you, you _brat_ ,” Junmyeon huffed, trying not to lose himself in how close Sehun was, leaning over, hands toying with the seatbelt.

“And I’m not a brat, or at least you don’t say that when I have you bent over,” Sehun quipped.

Junmyeon would have responded, but he got a whiff of his cologne, a heady scent that Junmyeon couldn’t recognize. “You smell nice,” was out of his mouth before he could realize how tacky it sounded.

Sehun chuckled the seatbelt clicking in place. “Thanks,” he murmured, pulling out from the parking spot.

“How’s your week been?” Sehun asked, stepping on the gas a bit too hard.

“Um,” Junmyeon looked out the window, a weird flutter in his stomach at Sehun caring enough to ask about his week. There was something oddly endearing about it. “Good. Boring. Too much sleep, lots of TV, none of it good. You?”

“Good. Better now you’re here,” Sehun answered flirtatiously.

Junmyeon scrunched up his face. “So cheesy. Did you read a book about bad pick-up lines or something? What are you even saying?”

“No, they’re Oh Sehun originals,” Sehun smirked.

“Great. Originals,” Junmyeon murmured, turning to look out the window. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise” Sehun answered, breaking so fast at the red light Junmyeon lurched forward.

“You drive like––“

“I know,” Sehun answered calmly. “I missed you.”

Junmyeon shot Sehun a look, a mixture of surprise and annoyance. Missed him? _He had missed him?_

Sehun laughed at his reaction. “Hyung, you look nice tonight.”

Junmyeon could swear Sehun practically purred the word _Hyung,_ and it was not an ideal situation. He gritted his teeth and looked away. “You too.” Honestly, he hadn’t noticed what Sehun was wearing. He was too busy drowning in his cologne and imagining being bent over to care what layer of fabric was keeping Sehun’s abs from him.

 

 

 

Sehun drove them to a restaurant, a hole-in-the-wall place tucked into one of the older neighborhoods of the city, with crappy streets full of potholes and a scent that made Junmyeon wrinkle his nose.

“They have good seafood,” Sehun explained while he parked the car in front of the storefront.

Junmyeon trailed after him, staring up at the sign above the door _. Kim Family Diner_ , written in big red letters, one of which was flickering, the bulb almost burnt out.

A string of bells attached to the door jingled when Sehun entered, clanking against the glass. “Mom, I’m home,” Sehun called out, and for a moment Junmyeon tensed up.

Did Sehun’s mom own a tiny seafood restaurant that had seen better days? Had he really been taken to meet the woman?

A plump, short, middle-aged woman walked out from a swinging door, a massive grin on her face. “Sehunnie,” she cooed, eagerly pulling the much taller man into a hug. “It’s been too long.”

“Sorry, I’ve––”

“I know, I know. You have a job now.” the woman glanced past Sehun, looking at Junmyeon with kind eyes. “And who may this be?”

Junmyeon bowed. “I’m––”

“My boyfriend,” Sehun introduced him. “Kim Junmyeon. Junmyeon, this is Kim JiSoo, she’s my best friend, Jongin’s, mother.”

_Not Sehun’s Mother_. And wait, _boyfriend_? Junmyeon opened his mouth to protest the moniker but was cut short when the woman approached him and pulled him into a motherly hug. He was crushed into the scent of fried food and some kind of floral perfume, the woman patting his back affectionately.

“So nice to meet you. Treat my Sehunnie well,” she said, stepping back to give Junmyeon a fond look.

“I-I will,” Junmyeon stammered.

Sehun smirked, apparently finding amusement in the situation. “We’ll take two number one sets,” he said to the woman. “And two beers.”

“Coming right up,” she sing-songed, walking back towards the kitchen.

The dining room was empty, save for them. Sehun claimed a table near the window, pulling Junmyeon’s chair out for him cheekily before sitting himself.

“Boyfriend,” Junmyeon hissed once they were seated.

Sehun laughed. “Should I have said sugar baby instead?”

Junmyeon huffed. “I guess not. But still, _we barely know each other_.”

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” Sehun drawled, reaching for where Junmyeon’s hand was resting on the table.

Junmyeon could have pulled away, but he didn’t. He let Sehun grab his hand, his thumb running over Junmyeon’s knuckles.

“You’re a brat.” Junmyeon looked down at where Sehun held his hand.

“A brat you barely know, apparently,” Sehun murmured. “How do we get to know each other better, _Hyung_?”

Sehun emphasized the term yet again, and Junmyeon couldn’t control the violent reaction in his gut, the heat that crept up his neck. He pulled his hand away and cleared his throat, ready to change the subject before he completely lost his wits.

“So your best friend’s family owns this?” Junmyeon looked around at the faded food posters on the wall, at the clutter by the cash register. “It’s…”

“Quaint,” Sehun finished for him. “But really good. And quiet, which I like.”

Junmyeon leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, preventing any future hand holding. “Tell me about your best friend.”

“He’s tall, like me. Forgetful. Laughs too much sleeps too much. Can’t drink to save his soul,” Sehun rambled off. “We went to college together, work at the same company. You’ll meet him someday.”

Junmyeon frowned. “Why would I ever meet your best friend?” Junmyeon asked quietly. It wasn’t like they were dating.

Sehun shrugged. “I thought we could have a threesome.”

“Brat,” Junmyeon hissed. He attempted to kick Sehun under the table but missed.

“Brat _you barely know_ ,” Sehun corrected him, chuckling when Junmyeon shot him a dirty look.

 

 

After dinner, they ended up at a small park outside of town, a quiet place where the city lights faded enough for the stars to be visible. Junmyeon hadn’t protested the location, because over the last week he had been plagued with enough anxiety and what-ifs to remind himself to calm the fuck down. He didn’t want to make a mistake and saying _no_ somehow felt like it would end up as one.

Sehun spread a blanket down in the soft grass, dragging Junmyeon to come to sit beside him.

“This is nice,” Junmyeon admitted, hugging his knees to his chest, ignoring the thudding of his heart. Beside him, Sehun sprawled out, long legs jutting out. It was quiet, having spent his life in the city Junmyeon wasn’t used to it, but he thought he could grow to love it.

 “What do you do for a living?” Sehun asked after a long stretch of silence.

“Huh?” Junmyeon turned to look at him, caught off guard, having lost himself staring up at the sky. “Oh, I work in Insurance.”

Sehun hummed. “Do you like it?”

“It’s alright,” Junmyeon told the truth. It wasn’t the most fantastic job in the world, but it paid the bills.

Sehun picked at the blanket, bunching the red checkered print between his fingers. “And you do _this_ on the side.”

“Yeah.” Junmyeon nodded, knowing he was referring to Junmyeon’s life as a Sugar Baby. “The money’s good, and I want to retire early.”

A stretch of silence passed between them, both men lost in thought.

“You know, I used to think money was the root of all evil,” Sehun admitted, tone serious. He stared up at the stars, giving Junmyeon a moment to observe him unabashedly.

“Why?” Junmyeon asked quietly. Most of the wealthy men he met would never dare to dream of money as evil. It was what made them, what they lived for. Their motivation. Their best friend.

“It caused a lot of issues in my family,” Sehun sighed. “But I think I’m starting to change my mind.” Sehun glanced over at Junmyeon, locking eyes. “It means I got to meet you, Hyung.”

Junmyeon swallowed, blood rushing in his ears. It was both the sappiest and most endearing thing he’d ever heard, and it scared the shit out of him if Sehun was honest. So the only reaction he could share was, “I think I threw up in my mouth.”

“You too?” Sehun chuckled. “I guess my life as a romantic is over.”

“I certainly hope so,” Junmyeon quipped, flashing a small smile as he leaned back on the blanket.

Junmyeon’s arm ended up pressed against Sehun’s as they both looked up at the night sky. Junmyeon sucked in a breath of fresh air, reveling in the atmosphere of quiet and calm. He thought maybe he could lay like this for hours, lost in the stars above, his worries slowly unraveling in the silence of the night. It had been a good idea to come to this place, Junmyeon decided. A perfect idea.

“Can I kiss you, Hyung?” Sehun asked, breaking the silence, moving onto his side.

Junmyeon nodded. When Sehun pressed his lips to his, Junmyeon thought maybe he could get lost in this too. Lost in Oh Sehun, at least for a while. At least as long as their arrangement lasted, providing he didn’t make a mistake. Providing the money was good. Because, in the end, it was all about the money, wasn’t it? Not feelings. It was money for Junmyeon. It had always been the money.

Which is why, when Sehun whispered the words, Junmyeon pretended not to hear them.

_“I like you, Hyung. I really do.”_

“Kiss me,” Junmyeon whispered back, erasing the confession from his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Three weeks passed in a blur. Junmyeon was busy at work, and often he was busy with Sehun after work. His bank account was growing exponentially as he met the younger man almost every day of the week. Sometimes it was for a quickie in the back of Sehun’s car, other times it was to go out to eat, with a night spent at Sehun’s house. Sometimes they sat and talked, sometimes they were both too tired, forgoing conversation altogether.

Regardless, Sehun always saw him home, dropping him off so he could get at least a few hours of sleep.

Which meant Junmyeon was effectively dead at work the next day, chugging coffee and praying he wasn’t messing anything up. He was getting good at surviving on little sleep. Sehun started to insist he go home earlier, but Junmyeon declined, digging his own grave every evening.

One look at his bank account though, told him it was all worth it. Hell, he could retire three years earlier if this continued. Sehun was beyond generous, with his time and his money.

It was enough to let Junmyeon ignore all other implications. Like how Sehun said, “I miss you” or “Hyung, I like you” a little too much for comfort.

_The money_ , Junmyeon reminded himself. _It’s for the money. There are no feelings._

 

 

Junmyeon sat at the kitchen table, shoveling cereal into his mouth. He had his phone in front of him. He had been checking the latest investment news when his eyes had wandered across the kitchen, to where his roommate was being unbearably sappy with his boyfriend, Lu Han.

Lu Han had his arms snaked around Minseok’s waist and was whispering something in his ear. Minseok kept playfully slapping him, both chuckling. Junmyeon narrowed his eyes.

Love was a bit disgusting to watch.

“Jealous?” Minseok asked. It took Junmyeon a moment to realize he was talking to him, having caught Junmyeon staring.

“What? No!” Junmyeon snorted and looked away.

“Has Junmyeon ever dated anyone?” Lu Han asked, an edge of pity to his words.

“I’m right here!” Junmyeon protested.

“Yeah, a long time ago,” Minseok answered. Minseok knew Junmyeon had told him once back in college. He was one of the few people that knew the details of why Junmyeon hated commitment, hated the thought of a relationship. And most importantly, he hadn’t made fun of Junmyeon for it. He hadn’t told him he was overreacting, or that feeling so strongly against having a relationship again was overblown given his past.

 “Come on babe, you’ll be late for work.” Minseok took a step forward, taking koala Lu Han with him.

Junmyeon stared into his cereal bowl and sighed.

_A long time ago._

Had it really been 19 years since his first and only relationship? Since he had let himself fall in love?

 

 

Yoo Yeonseok was Junmyeon’s life from the time he was fifteen until he was seventeen.  He was Junmyeon’s first relationship and his last. They had met at Junmyeon’s school, of all places, when Junmyeon was in a school play, and Yeonseok was dragged there to watch a cousin perform.

Yeonseok was older by six years, which Junmyeon knew very well would have mortified his parents if they had ever found out. But they hadn’t. In fact, no one found out, because Junmyeon had been a dirty little secret.

Junmyeon experienced a schoolboy crush that, when he turned seventeen, turned into a relationship with an older man. Yeonseok took his virginity, took a lot of things from him. Junmyeon was optimistic that things could work out, that once he graduated high school and went off to college, he could move in with his boyfriend and the sky would be the limit. They would be together forever, in love.

It never happened. Junmyeon was the dirty little secret that had an expiration date. Yeonseok wasn’t interested in dating him seriously, and he let him know that in so many words.

Junmyeon left Yeonseok’s apartment with tears in his eyes, finding out a week later the man was dating a female news anchor a few years older than him.

Junmyeon had felt his heartbreak, felt his world shatter into a million pieces when he was seventeen. And, being stubborn, being resolute to never let his guard down again, he swore off romantic relationships for good. 

But now, many years had passed. Things had changed. At least for some people. And maybe for Junmyeon too, but he hated to admit it. And so, he made neatly composed excuses in his brain why he didn’t want attachment, filing them away for easy access as needed. And for some reason, he needed them more frequently of late thanks to Oh Sehun.

_It was for the money. Nothing else mattered._

He would repeat it again and again. Even when he felt a weird flutter in his stomach when he saw Sehun. Even when he was the one who texted Sehun first, asking how his day was going or some equally cheesy question that had nothing to do with money. Even when, exhausted and collapsing into bed, he fell asleep with Sehun’s name on his lips.

Lust and money. That was all it was about for him. Had been ever since he was seventeen.

 

 

_[Brat I Barely Know] Can I pick you up tomorrow night? I have a surprise for you_

Junmyeon almost fell out of bed when his phone buzzed with the message. Sehun had dropped him off fifteen minutes before, and he was entering a hazy state of sleep, trying to get whatever shut-eye he could before he had to be up for work.

_Yes, of course,_ he texted back before rolling over and falling asleep.

 

 

Junmyeon blinked, eyes going wide. The backyard of Sehun’s house was now… _full of people_. There was a huge screen set up on the lawn, plastic lawn chairs scattered around, the chairs turned towards the projection screen. Junmyeon spotted red tumblers everywhere, a trio of kegs was set up by a long folding table. A few uniformed servants were mingling with the plethora of guests, most of whom looked around Sehun’s age, assuming Junmyeon’s eyesight was decent. The lawn was lit by tiki torches, fire licking into the sky, looking more than a little like a fire hazard.

It smelled kind of like pot and cheap booze. The screen that was set up was playing some type of 3D thing, a movie, maybe?

Junmyeon stood, dumbstruck, not knowing what to say. A second later Sehun was behind him, wrapping his arms around Junmyeon’s waist, pulling his back flush against his chest. He leaned in, planting a kiss on Junmyeon’s cheek.

“Hyung, do you like it?” he asked in that low, dangerous voice. “It’s better than the mall, right? It’s all yours.”

Junmyeon liked Sehun wrapped around him, or at least his libido did, his dick stirring in his pants despite where they were. As far as the “it” he was staring at, well––”What is _it_?”

“I bought you your own e-sports team,” Sehun whispered, teeth grazing Junmyeon’s earlobe, sending a shiver up the older man’s spine.

He melted into the embrace, ignoring the fact they were very much surrounded by people, some of them staring.

Sehun’s arms were strong, taut, as they held Junmyeon to him. “What should we call it?”

“I have no idea,” Junmyeon said, completely lost on what an e-sports team even was. Honestly, at that moment, he could care less what was going on in front of him.

Junmyeon relaxed in Sehun’s arms, nerve endings firing, body craving the contact. It occurred to Junmyeon that deep down he chased after this validation from Sehun, that his anxiety would only calm when he could confirm they were still together, that their arrangement was still in place and he hadn’t messed anything up.

Every day that Sehun texted or called, Junmyeon felt a sense of victory that in its base form was disturbing. Victory in the fact Sehun still wanted to be in their arrangement. Victory that despite Junmyeon’s misgivings, his anxiety, there was a future. Victory that masked a truth he chose to ignore. Sehun was saying things that reeked of affection, of dare Junmyeon even say it–– _attachment_. Junmyeon was choosing to ignore it all while celebrating that Sehun still wanted to be with him as a Sugar Daddy.  

Somewhere in the back of his mind, past the carefully constructed wall of bullshit he adored, he knew he liked Oh Sehun. Unfortunately, he was addicted to the pretense he didn’t. The claim that they could go on without feelings for an indefinite period, never approaching the subject that made Junmyeon’s chest tighten, made his mind race late at night as he tried to sleep.

Junmyeon was at war with himself, and Sehun was his loyal soldier and simultaneously his enemy. But he could forget it all when Sehun whispered into his ear, when he planted kisses down his neck. He could pretend and pretend again, losing himself in Oh Sehun, ignoring when the few words he didn’t want to hear were spoken.

“Hyung, let’s go to my room.” Sehun pressed his lips to Junmyeon’s throat.

Junmyeon let a small moan escape his lips, unconsciously tilting his head to the side to expose his neck, giving Sehun better access.

Junmyeon felt teeth graze the skin there, and then Sehun was whispering again. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Junmyeon agreed, voice cracking, body wanting. He had no idea what was going on the lawn of Oh Sehun’s mansion, nor did he particularly care. Not when Sehun was squeezing his ass, slapping it playfully as he urged him into the house.

 

 

They took each other apart slowly, sprawled out on the vast expanse of Sehun’s bed. If their previous lovemaking had been fast and furious, now it was unhurried; like they had all the time in the world.

Junmyeon was methodical as he tried to memorize every inch of Sehun’s chest, of his waist, his arms and his legs. He kissed reverently, hands exploring, stopping to caress, to worship, the moment Sehun made a noise of appreciation letting Junmyeon know he had found the right place. He silently lavished Sehun with the attention he deserved until Sehun was murmuring things about it being Junmyeon’s turn, gently pressing his back into the mattress.

And for reasons Junmyeon didn’t understand, the pace they had set, the one that continued, didn’t bother him– even when Sehun was particularly teasing, drawing as many soft and throaty moans out of Junmyeon as he could.

Sehun’s long fingers breached Junmyeon’s hole in a slow and shallow action, pressing into his prostate a few thrusts later. Sehun’s free hand was busy as well, palm sliding up Junmyeon’s torso, to his chest.

When Sehun tweaked Junmyeon’s nipple, the older man arched his back, a ripple of pleasure dancing down his spine.

“So sensitive,” Sehun mused more than once, seemingly amazed that with each tweak of a nipple, each graze of teeth against skin, Junmyeon could lose himself more.

Sehun kissed the inside of Junmyeon’s thighs, whispering words of encouragement against Junmyeon’s skin until he was gasping, unable to fight his release. He came with three of Sehun’s fingers in him, shooting his load on his stomach and chest.

As Junmyeon came down from his high, Sehun pulled his fingers out, sliding them back to leave Junmyeon’s puckered hole clenching on air.

Junmyeon was more than happy to return the favor. He sat up, sucking in a breath, willing his nerve endings to calm the fuck down.

“Let me blow you,” Junmyeon rasped, darting his tongue out to swipe along his bottom lip. He had imagined giving Sehun head since the night they met, both excited and afraid of how it would go. He wasn’t sure how he could accommodate Sehun’s width and girth, but he sure as hell was ready to try.

Sehun relaxed into the mound of pillows on the bed, pumping his cock lazily before letting his arms fall to the side, ready for Junmyeon to go to work.

Junmyeon scooted to Sehun’s left, getting on his knees and leaning forward he sheathed Sehun’s cock with his hands. He pumped along the shaft lazily, moving into tongue along the slit of Sehun’s hard and leaking cock.

Junmyeon sucked experimentally, taking the head in his mouth.

“You’re going to kill me with this, aren’t you,” Sehun husked.

Junmyeon didn’t answer. He took more of Sehun in his mouth, tongue sliding against the underside of Sehun’s cock. Junmyeon only stopped when he felt the threat of his gag reflex kicking in. He slowly bobbed his head up, his hand covering the length of Sehun’s cock that Junmyeon couldn’t take into his mouth.

“Hyung, fuck,” Sehun groaned, enjoying the sensation.

Junmyeon could taste the salty taste of pre-cum along his tongue, along his lips which were stretched wide. He liked it, liked tasting Sehun like this.

Sehun reached, able to slide his hand down Junmyeon’s back to his ass, squeezing the cheek hard.

“Hyung, how did you learn to suck dick like this, my god,” Sehun rasped.

Junmyeon wasn’t going to stop to answer. He continued the task at hand, feeling his own dick harden as Sehun lost himself more and more to Junmyeon’s ministrations.

Junmyeon only stopped when Sehun was keening, “Hyung, let me fuck you. _Please, Hyung_.”

Junmyeon wouldn’t say no. He let Sehun’s dick slide from his mouth, a trail of saliva left to connect his swollen lips with the hard, thick length of Sehun’s erection.

Sehun reached, and Junmyeon complied, moving to straddle the younger man. When Sehun tried to sit forward, Junmyeon pressed him back, shaking his head.

“Relax,” Junmyeon purred, lining his hole up with Sehun’s cock.

“Hyung,” Sehun said firmly, the moment suddenly broken.

Junmyeon looked up to see Sehun, jaw set in a straight line.

“Condom,” Sehun said.

Junmyeon had almost forgotten. _How stupid of him_. Or perhaps not. The idea flashed in his mind, a reckless thing to entertain. “Are you clean?” Junmyeon blurted out.

Sehun nodded. “Yeah.”

“Me too. Do you want to….” Junmyeon trailed off. The thought of Sehun inside of him with _nothing_ separating them had his heart thudding in his chest, his dick twitching.

Apparently, the idea did something similar to Sehun. “Fuck, Hyung. Yes, please.” Sehun sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, watching Junmyeon line himself up with Sehun’s bare cock.

 Junmyeon sunk down slowly, hands going to rest on Sehun’s shoulders as he took him inside inch by inch. Bare. Nothing to separate them.

“So tight,” Sehun husked. Junmyeon couldn’t believe how intense the feeling was without a condom, the sensation of Sehun sliding into his tight passage as intensified fivefold, leaving his breath hitching, muscles tensing.

Once he was fully seated, Junmyeon moved his hips, riding Sehun, head falling forward as he was stuffed so full. He liked this feeling, Sehun deep inside of him, his walls stretched taut over Sehun’s cock.

Junmyeon set the pace, moaning as his hips bucked, thighs caging in Sehun’s legs, fingers pressing red marks into Sehun’s skin.

It wasn’t long before they were both hovering at the edge. Junmyeon rode Sehun faster, stilling when Sehun bucked his hips up hard, driving deep inside Junmyeon with a sharp thrust. Junmyeon clenched tightly around Sehun’s cock in response.

Sehun came with a heated cry, Junmyeon following a second later, body falling forward as he rode Sehun’s cock, milking the younger man’s release until he was stuffed full and dripping.

 

 

Sehun’s palm smoothed up and down Junmyeon’s back in a lazy circle. Junmyeon was on his stomach, head turned away from Sehun. He was boneless, fucked out, tired, and happy. Sehun had cleaned him up from their last bout of lovemaking, carrying him to the bathroom and back, whispering words of endearment along the way.

In the background, Junmyeon could hear the party going on downstairs, a muffled noise that reminded him a little of his college days. Though he never felt this good during college, that much he was sure of.

“Hyung, will you stay the night?” Sehun asked gently.

Junmyeon considered it for a moment. “How will I get to work?”

“I’ll drive you,” Sehun husked, leaning over, pressing a kiss on Junmyeon’s shoulder. He had been driving him home, but now, now he wanted him to stay.

“Okay,” Junmyeon agreed, enjoying the feeling of Sehun’s lips on his skin.

“Will you stay tomorrow night too?”

“Hmm, maybe,” Junmyeon hummed, knowing he probably would.

When Sehun’s hand went lower, palming over Junmyeon’s ass, he moved into the touch.

“You’re not tired yet, are you Hyung?” Sehun whispered.

“Brat,” Junmyeon groaned. It was a half-hearted insult at best, especially when he was already turning over, searching for Sehun’s lips.

 

 

There was only a half a dozen passed out people left on the lawn the next morning. Junmyeon stared at them in concern, peeking out Sehun’s kitchen window.

“They’ll be okay,” Sehun assured him, handing him a cup of coffee. “The butler will bring them water and make sure they get home.”

Junmyeon suddenly felt sorry for Sehun’s butler and more than a little concerned he might not be getting paid enough. “Do you offer your staff retirement options?” Junmyeon blurted out.

Sehun snorted. “Yes, I do, _Hyung_.”

“Stop saying that,” Junmyeon whined.

“Saying what?” Sehun asked over the rim of his coffee cup.

“Hyung,” Junmyeon replied.

“What? I can’t use respectful language with you?” Sehun asked, feigning innocence.

Junmyeon frowned. “Brat.”

“Am I still that brat _you barely know_? Because I would like to think we know each other _very well_ now.” Sehun said with a wink.

Junmyeon rolled his eyes and looked away, back towards the window, the heat creeping up his neck and into his cheeks answering for him.  

 

 

Sehun arrived at Junmyeon’s office at six in the evening, car tires squealing with a bit too much gusto. Junmyeon sighed. He really had to talk to Sehun about his driving.

Junmyeon was standing in the lobby of his office building, facing the floor to ceiling windows that looked out on the busy intersection. He had his briefcase in hand, gaze fixed out on the street. The lobby was less packed currently of day, the salarymen and women filtering out one by one, after the mad dash of five o’clock. Junmyeon nodded and smiled at his coworkers while they passed, checking his phone every few minutes in case Sehun canceled on him.

When Sehun arrived, Junmyeon headed towards the door, ready for whatever the evening may bring. He was halfway outside when his co-worker and cubicle mate, Kibum, stopped him, an arm on his shoulder. “Where are you going?”

Junmyeon turned, bewildered. “Hey. What’s up?”

“We’re going out tonight, bosses’ orders. Didn’t you get the email?” Kibum quirked his eyebrow.

Junmyeon felt embarrassed. No, he hadn’t gotten the email because he had clocked out first out of everyone in the office. He had something to do, or _someone_ to do, more precisely. Junmyeon swallowed.

“I um, I have an appointment,” he lied. Kind of. _Sort of._

Kibum frowned. “That won’t look good, Jun. Promotion season is next month,” Kibum reminded him.

_Shit._ Junmyeon felt helpless. With Yifan, or Minho, or hell, any of the others, he could claim he had to work. They would understand. How many times had he been given that excuse as a reason for why their meetings were canceled? Most of the men he had been with canceled routinely, and the few times he had to in turn they understood. It was business, their arrangement. But this time a pang of guilt welled up in Junmyeon’s chest. He really wanted to see Sehun, not go to some work dinner.

He glanced at Sehun’s car, the windows tinted too dark for him to really see inside. “Okay,” Junmyeon said soullessly. “Where are we going?”’

“Down the street,” Kibum explained, looping his arm around Junmyeon’s. “Hope you have taxi fare because I have a feeling this is going to be a doozy.”

 

 

Junmyeon texted Sehun as soon as he could.

_Work thing. I am so sorry._

_[From: Brat] I saw. Take care hyung, call me if you need me_

_I will ^_^_

_[From: Brat] They make better emojis now, hyung. Remind me to teach you how to use them._

_Fuck off_

“Junmyeonie, pour my drink.” One of the program directors, a fifty-something guy who Junmyeon couldn’t stand, thrust a bottle in his face.

“Okay, sir,” Junmyeon replied, slipping his cellphone back into his pocket and taking the bottle.

 

 

Junmyeon staggered down the street, hand reaching out, colliding with the storefront window to steady himself. The pads of his fingers pressed into the cold glass, his vision blurring. How many shots had he taken? He lost count at three, there had to be at least twice that much on top of the drinks he had in his hand all night.

“You knowwww what I like about you, Junmyeon,” Kibum slurred, his arm going around Junmyeon’s shoulders, both of them swaying. “You don’t put up with shit from anyone.”

“That’s a lie,” Junmyeon responded, trying to shrug his co-worker off.

“No,” Kibum started, hiccupping loudly. “It isn’t. You are good at your job, you are nice, but like you don’t kiss ass. You’re fucking cute as fuck too, and you like, you stand up for yourself. You know?” _Hiccup._

“I poured too many drinks for that to be true,” Junmyeon laughed, leaning into the building.

“I’d fucking promote you.” _Hiccup_. “If you’d promote me.”

“Yeah, of course. I would,” Junmyeon promised, giggling. He looked at his co-worker, snorting, laughing.

“Holy shit who called Americas Nexxttt top modellssss.” _Hiccup._

“Huh?” Junmyeon looked at Kibum, then followed his gaze. He squinted, seeing people walking towards them. Fuzzy. _Fuzzy people_.

Junmyeon tilted his head, slipping closer to the building, dragging Kibum with him.

“Who are you?” Junmyeon asked, words slurring. Wait, it wasn’t fuzzy people. It was a fuzzy person. Where had the other guy gone?

A heavy sigh. “Hyung, let’s go.”

Fucking hell. Drunk as fuck or not the word ignited a fire in his stomach. Junmyeon suddenly straightened up, or at least tried to.

“You know Junmyeon?” _Hiccup_. “Are you trying to kidnap him?”

“What if I was?”

The voice was too familiar. Junmyeon had heard it whisper sinful, dirty things while he was fucked open. He knew that voice. Drunk or not.

“I want to be kidnapped,” Junmyeon blurted out, gently pushing Kibum from him.

“Hey! Hey!” Kibum yelled.

And that was the last thing Junmyeon really remembered, at least linearly. There were glimpses, snippets. His hand on Sehun’s crotch. Singing something horribly off key. Promises and things he shouldn’t be saying. Things that were a little too deep, a little too personal, a bit too affectionate for him.

“I kind of like you,” slurred words, eyes on the ceiling, the world spinning. “Oh Sehun I like you a lot.”

 

 

 

Junmyeon woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and a belated sense of regret. He rolled over, blinking hard. The space next to him was empty, the covers still made. It took him a moment to realize he was in Oh Sehun’s bed. _Alone._

He struggled to sit upright, squinting. It was definitely morning, slight poured in through the big bay window on the east side of the room.

And then it came back to him. Sehun taking him home. Words he probably shouldn’t have said. The fact they hadn’t even known each other for two months. Junmyeon groaned, flopping back into the bed. _Dating_. Had he mentioned dating?! He was mortified. Afraid. Tears stung the corners of his eyes.

He’d really fucked it up, hadn’t he? This arrangement wasn’t about liking someone or caring about them. It was about easy sex and money not being drunk and maybe pouring your heart out.

_Fuck._

Junmyeon bristled when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He was startled when instead of Sehun he realized the blur was a…white, fluffy dog, sniffing on the bed.

Junmyeon blinked, not knowing what to do. He had never been a dog person. Hell, he had never had a pet aside from the very tragic goldfish in first grade, bless Goldie’s untimely death. The animal pressed his wet nose into Junmyeon’s arm before raising his head, staring at him, tilting his head.

Junmyeon swallowed, staring back, then averting his eyes because he belatedly remembered reading somewhere you shouldn’t look a dog in the eyes.

“G-good boy,” he whispered, hoping it wouldn’t bite him. He had forgotten entirely that Sehun said he had a dog.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the dog’s tail wag, hesitantly at first, then quickly. Junmyeon wasn’t sure what to do. He pulled the covers up to his chin and scooted back. “Good boy, or girl. Dog. Good dog,” he repeated, moving into a seated position.

The dog continued wagging his tail, then leaned in, front paws jutting out. A loud yip sounded, and Junmyeon sucked in a breath, afraid the dog might be ready to pounce.

He heard a deep chuckle from across the room. Darting his eyes to the source he saw Sehun sitting up, bare-chested, a plaid blanket around his waist. He had slept on the couch, Junmyeon surmised. The knowledge that Sehun hadn’t slept next to him caused dread to pool in Junmyeon’s gut.

He had really done it. He had fucked up.

“Vivi, come here,” Sehun called with a smack of his lips.

The white, fluffy dog looked at Sehun, wagging its tail more vigorously.

“Vivi, if you don’t come here, I won’t give you steak,” Sehun cooed, and why in the hell did Junmyeon find that so fucking cute?

The dog bounded off the bed, rushing to his owner. Sehun laughed, the dog jumping into his lap and licking his chin, Sehun trying to avert his face, laughing, petting the dogs back with rough and playful strokes.

Junmyeon watched, head pounding, chest tight. Sehun was beautiful like this, carefree, and why did he have to go and fuck it up? Ruin it? Why?

Sehun stood, dog in his arms. He planted a kiss on its head and walked towards the bed. “He’s a killer, I know. But you’ll get used to him.”

“I’m sorry,” Junmyeon blurted out, looking down at the blanket. He needed to apologize. Yes. It was better to just get it over with, admit his mistakes and prepare himself to spend days or weeks or months having a pity party because he was a moron who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Everything I said last night. I get it, I mean,” he rambled. “If you want me to leave. I understand if it’s over.”

Junmyeon heard Sehun snort in amusement. He looked up, surprised to see Sehun watching him. “Hyung, do you really think I am going to let you go?”

“I––“ Junmyeon swallowed.

“You’re mine, _Hyung_ ,” Sehun said, voice low. How could someone look so fucking cute, standing there half naked holding a fluffy white dog, but then simultaneously look hot as hell? Junmyeon wanted to cry.

Junmyeon felt heat rise in his chest, his emotions a mess. He grasped at anything to say or do to ease his tensions. “What, um, what is he? The dog, I mean.” Junmyeon asked, dragging his hand through his hair.

Sehun was predictable, he let the awkwardness go, not commenting on it. “Bichon Frise, or so I was told. He’s a bit big for the breed, though.” Sehun patted the dog’s belly playfully. “He eats like a bear.”

“Like his owner,” Junmyeon murmured, eyeing up Sehun’s frame. Really, the boy was tall.

“Hyung, you like how _big_ I am,” Sehun remarked. “Or at least you said so last night.”

Junmyeon winced, falling back into the pillows. If only he could turn back time….

“I’m kidding. Relax. Forget last night. I barely remember it. Plus, you’re cute when you’re drunk. Now take it easy. I’ll bring breakfast up.”

Junmyeon would bury himself under the mattress if he could. Anything to get away from the mortification of what he might have said the night before. He grabbed a pillow, placing it over his face. And then it hit him. He sprung up, eyes wild.

“I have to go to work.” He blurted out, scooting towards the edge of the bed. It had to be at least seven in the morning by then, judging by how light out it was. He needed to shower, get dressed, collect his things–

“It’s Saturday,” Sehun drawled, standing near the door to the stairs, still holding his dog.

“What?” Junmyeon asked, not understanding for a moment. Then it hit him, and he fell back into bed.

“Sleep,” Sehun repeated, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll be up in a little while.”

 

 

 

Junmyeon laid in bed until noon, not moving until his headache was gone and he felt somewhat human again. Sehun and his dog kept him company, putting a movie on and claiming the other half of the ridiculously oversized bed.

“Shower,” Junmyeon muttered once he could move again, needing to wash away the smell of booze.

“When you’re done, I have a surprise for you,” Sehun said in his consistently cryptic tone.

Junmyeon shrugged it off, not caring for much but a hot shower and a return to the world of the living.

 

 

“Yes, I have a hot tub, and yes, I would like to fuck you in it,” Sehun said, arm around Junmyeon’s shoulder. He had dragged Junmyeon to a part of the house that Junmyeon had yet to see, claiming that is where his surprise was.

Junmyeon eyed up the water, suspicious. He still wasn’t feeling like a hundred percent, even after the long shower.

Junmyeon turned, raising his eyebrow at the younger man next to him. “You really aren’t subtle.”

“Are _you_?” Sehun asked, hand going out to slap Junmyeon’s ass.

Junmyeon yelped. Honestly, a sense of calm, of relief, had spread over Junmyeon in the last few hours. The relief he hadn’t fucked up, that this was still a thing, that Sehun would still have him. That he most definitely would be getting laid _very soon_ because fine, his libido had needs too. “Why? Because I spent the morning in your bed half naked then stole your underwear?”

“Maybe,” Sehun answered. “Or maybe because having an ass like that, lying around in my bed doing nothing is just _not_ fucking fair. Now come on.”

Junmyeon took a long look at the bubbling hot tub. Sehun was already stripping off his clothing, ready to get in.

“How exactly do you want to do this?” Junmyeon asked. Maybe it made him a bit of a prude, but in all his life he had never had sex in a pool or a hot tub.

“Preferably with my dick in your ass,” Sehun quipped, sinking into the hot, steaming water.

“Very funny,” Junmyeon said, shaking his head. He went to work stripping off his clothing, ignoring the way Sehun was ogling him. He climbed into the hot tub slowly, dipping his toe in, then his leg, waiting for his body to adjust to the temperature.

When he sunk down, he let a puff of air escape his lips. He winced at just how hot the water was. And Sehun wanted to have sex in this thing?

“It’s a bit warm.” Junmyeon looked down, noting how his chest and arms were turning a shade of red from the temperature of the water. He stumbled a little before his bottom hit the built-in seat of the hot tub.

Sehun hummed in response. He scooted along the edge until he was next to Junmyeon, their arms pressed together.

“Come here,” Sehun said softly, giving Junmyeon his best come hither look.

Junmyeon was clumsy, step faltering while he readjusted his position. He somehow managed to turn to face Sehun but attempting to straddle his lap was proving to be impossible.

“How do people do this?” Junmyeon complained, his thigh suddenly hit with a burst from a jet. He tried to avoid it, weight leaning to one side.

Sehun’s hands were suddenly gripping Junmyeon’s waist, pulling him closer. “You’re just clumsy,” Sehun murmured, helping Junmyeon onto his lap.

As soon as they were in a decent position to kiss, Sehun pressed his lips against Junmyeon’s.

Junmyeon quickly forgot his complaints. Sehun was a good kisser, and Junmyeon had a substantial history to compare him to. But Sehun came out on top of the list in Junmyeon’s books, for technique as well as impact. Junmyeon was always chasing his lips when they broke their kisses, wanting more, body lit on fire.

Sehun’s hands gripped Junmyeon’s waist, one hand eventually sliding lower to palm his ass. He kissed down Junmyeon’s neck, Junmyeon pressing forward, arching his back.

Junmyeon lost himself to the feeling of Sehun’s tongue, in the warmth of the hot tub, in the promise of more as he rolled his hips slowly, pressing into Sehun’s erection. It was like he was in a trance, warm, muscles’ relaxing, letting his body do anything, move any way that Oh Sehun wanted him to.

And Sehun and his confidence gravitated to the way Junmyeon let loose, at the way he was pliant and ready to be bent over, knees hitting the hot tub bench, ass, jutted out.

Junmyeon moaned low in his throat when Sehun began to work him open with his fingers. The moment Sehun breached him with his cock, Junmyeon gasped, throwing his head back, the hazy trancelike state he was in torn asunder.

“Hyung, let me make you feel good,” Sehun purred into Junmyeon’s ear, gripping his hips and moving him.

When Junmyeon felt the warm jet of water hit his erect cock, he keened, afraid he would come then and there. Sehun was fucking into him from behind, thick cock driving into his hole at a steady pace. And in front of him, a stream of wet water hit his cock, pulsing around it, enveloping it in a sensation he had never before experienced.

“I-I’m going-“Junmyeon sucked in a deep breath, letting expletives fall from his lips when he exhaled.

“Come for me, Hyung,” Sehun rasped, pounding into his ass, filling him so full.

Junmyeon couldn’t stop the tight heat in this abdomen from spreading, the coil of muscles releasing. His legs were shaky as he came into the steaming water of the hot tub, Sehun holding him up, fucking into him.

“Hyung, so good for me. Hyung,” Sehun said it like a mantra, repeating it until his hips stilled, his load shot deep into Junmyeon, painting his walls white.

 

 

Waking up with Sehun’s mouth around his dick was heaven, or as close to it as Junmyeon cared to imagine. His toes curled, back arching. It took him a second to remember the hot tub, the journey back to Sehun’s room, ending up on his bed, exhausted and ready to sleep.

“Hyung,” Sehun breathed against the inside of his thighs, before taking him into his mouth again.

Junmyeon dug his fingers into the mattress, a moan escaping his lips. Being with Oh Sehun was a slice of heaven he didn’t want to let go. A slice of heaven he tried to ignore but hold onto at the same time.

 

 

“When is the last time you dated?” Junmyeon asked, words ghosting against Sehun’s shoulder. They were in bed. It was Sunday, early afternoon, and they had spent more of the weekend in bed than out of it. 

Sehun pursed his lips and stared up at the ceiling. “A couple years ago,” he admitted. “Someone I went to college with. It was a disaster from beginning to end. What about you?”

Junmyeon had broached the subject amid the haze of calm, of a long, drawn-out victory that had seemed unlikely when he woke up Saturday morning. An aura of invincibility, of daring, was settling around him, spurred by Sehun’s touches, his words, his promises.

“Nineteen years ago, when I was a teenager.”

“That long,” Sehun said, his tone without judgment.

“I don’t like commitment,” Junmyeon admitted, scooting closer to Sehun, throwing his leg over Sehun’s thigh.

“I guess not,” Sehun murmured, rolling over to press Junmyeon into the mattress, planting kisses over his neck and shoulders. “Hyung,” he whispered after a few minutes of lazy kisses. “I really like you.”

Junmyeon didn’t answer, closing his eyes and losing himself to Sehun’s mouth.

Until he felt the younger man shift on top of him. “Hyung?”

Junmyeon opened his eyes, peeking up at Sehun.

Sehun was staring down at him, bracing his weight on his outstretched arms. His expression was unreadable, which put Junmyeon on edge.

“Yeah?” Junmyeon asked, mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“I _really_ like you,” Sehun repeated before lowering himself again, his lips returning to the column of Junmyeon’s neck. He didn’t repeat himself or ask for a response. Apparently saying it a second time was all that Oh Sehun needed at the moment.

_I like you too_ was whispered in Junmyeon’s mind, the words he was unable to say. Not yet. Not when he could still cling to excuses, pretending he wasn’t falling.

 

 

Junmyeon tugged at Sehun’s hair, fingers digging into his scalp.

“S-sto–“ The word never was fully formed, dissolving into a throaty moan that echoed in the spacious kitchen.

Sehun’s lips were on his chest, tongue teasing along the bud.

Junmyeon was worried a servant might walk in. What would they think, seeing Sehun sucking along his chest, hand gripping Junmyeon’s ass, as the older man sat on the countertop?

“Gonna fuck you over the counter, Hyung,” Sehun husked, words spoken into the juncture of Junmyeon’s neck and collar bone.

They were supposed to be gone, Sehun was going to drive him home. But they had been waylaid, again. And Junmyeon had one last victory before he had to say goodbye, the weekend slipping away, the week and new battles taking over.

 

 

“Well, well, look who isn’t dead,” Minseok drawled, folding his arms over his chest and tapping his toe.

Junmyeon slipped off his shoes, hands going to push his jacket back. “Sorry, I was um––”

“With your boyfriend?” Minseok suggested. “You could have at least texted and told me you were alive. I was worried.”

Junmyeon gathered that when he saw fifty-seven missed calls and three times as many texts on his phone.

“I almost called the police,” Minseok said, walking towards him. “Lu Han talked me out of it, so thank him if that was the right decision.”

”I’m sorry. Really.” Junmyeon felt a pang of regret at not letting Minseok know he was okay. He was his best friend, and lord knows he had put up with a lot from him.

Minseok pulled him into a hug. “Just let me know Jun, okay. It’s fine if you have a boyfriend, but I just want to know you’re alive.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Junmyeon mumbled into Minseok’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, you know,” Minseok said softly, not breaking the hug. ”If you have someone you care about.”

Minseok let him go. Junmyeon frowned, shaking his head. “I don’t. Really. It’s not like that.”

Minseok didn’t look convinced, and honestly, Junmyeon could understand. He had talked to his roommate about Sehun more than once, and he wasn’t doing an excellent job of playing him off like the usual Sugar Daddy. The last time he spent a good fifteen minutes recounting something Sehun had said that he found hilarious, ending up with Minseok side-eyeing him for twice as long. He couldn’t blame his best friend for jumping to conclusions.

Minseok gripped his shoulders, looking him in the eyes. “Jun, I am saying this with your best interest at heart. Don’t be afraid to let someone in, if you feel like they’re the right person.”

Junmyeon looked away. “I won’t,” he answered in a small voice.

Minseok stepped back, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “You deserve to be happy, Jun. Remember that.”

Junmyeon flashed a small smile, nodding like he ultimately agreed.

_Hyung, I like you_ repeated in his head and honestly, he just kind of wanted a nap and a glass of wine. “I will. I’ll remember that,” he assured his best friend.

Minseok pulled him back into a half hug. “Please do, Jun. Please do.”

_[From: Brat] I miss you. Do you want to sleep over?_

Junmyeon was sure, okay after checking the time he _knew_ , it had been less than twenty-four hours since he left Oh Sehun’s house. He had spent the day at the office, wallowing in the usual Monday blues, before heading home to eat a TV dinner and commiserate with Minseok that they still had to work for a living.

Junmyeon stared down at his phone, reading the message a few times before responding.

_Ok but I have to work tomorrow :/_

_[From: Brat] Really they make emojis. Like not text. And yeah, Hyung. I can drop you off._

Junmyeon rolled his eyes and walked towards his bedroom to get ready.

“Have fun getting some dick from your boyfriend,” Minseok called after him.

“I will,” Junmyeon yelled back, not feeling like arguing.

 

 

“Okay, but what else do you have hidden in this house?” Junmyeon asked, sincerely convinced that Sehun’s mansion probably contained the bat cave, a nuclear missile silo, and a tunnel to the other side of the globe. It seemed like each time he visited there was a new area, a new room that sprang up, hidden among the sprawling layout.

In front of Junmyeon was a fully stocked greenhouse, the glass wet with condensation, a maze of exotic plants growing up towards the glass.

Sehun stood beside him, his arm around Junmyeon’s waist. He sighed. “I’m not sure. This house seems to go on forever, doesn’t it?”

Junmyeon stepped forward, amazed at the colorful foliage, at the brightly colored flowers and the scents that assaulted his nose. He was ignorant when it came to flowers and trees, they had never interested him. He didn’t have a tiny indoor garden like Minseok, who turned violent if you moved one of his cacti. It was all foreign to him, and he had never really cared before. But at that instant, he was intrigued, more than a little mesmerized by the indoor forest that Sehun owned. Junmyeon could imagine having such a place to go to, to sit, to relax, to escape for a while and the thought appealed to him.

Junmyeon ambled, taking it all in, Sehun trailing after him.

“Did you plant them yourself,” Junmyeon asked, feeling dumb.

“No. This was my mother’s thing. She had it built when my parents owned the house,” Sehun answered.

Sehun took a step forward, his fingers intertwining with Junmyeon’s. “Come on, I want to show you the best part.”

Sehun lead him down a path that narrowed with denser foliage before ending in a clearing. A stone patio of sorts, with a hammock set up. Above the hammock the glass was clear, allowing for a view of the night sky, an effect heightened when Sehun fished a remote out of his pocket and pushed a button, the lights dimming only to small slits that lined the path.

“Hyung, let’s lay down,” Sehun said, gesturing towards the hammock.

Junmyeon was already halfway there, in love with the idea.

 

                                                              

The hammock wasn’t tiny, but it wasn’t huge either. Junmyeon ended up with his head on Sehun’s chest, Leg thrown over Sehun’s thigh. They were a tangle of limbs, breathing intermingling while they stared up at the sky.

“When did your parents move out?” Junmyeon asked, fingers tracing lazy patterns on Sehun’s shirt.

“I’ve lived here alone since I was seventeen,” Sehun answered.

Junmyeon could feel Sehun’s muscles go taut for a split second. He lifted his head, searching Sehun’s expression in the semi-darkness. “If you don’t want to talk about it I won’t ask.” Junmyeon realized he should have been more considerate, more careful before he asked such a question. He didn’t know Sehun’s family life, he didn’t know if there was pain there.

“It’s fine, Hyung.” Sehun let out a breath. “I don’t mind telling you.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Junmyeon’s lips before relaxing back into the hammock.

Junmyeon let his head back down on Sehun’s chest, Sehun’s heartbeat a steady noise against his ear.

“My parents decided to move and gave me the house. It wasn’t like this was their favorite house, to begin with, but they knew I loved it. So they let me have it. A farewell present of sorts.” Sehun paused, the hammock swinging slightly below them. “They don’t approve of me being gay, and I don’t approve of them being homophobic assholes. So it’s really better that we don’t speak at all, honestly. I’m better off without parents.”

Junmyeon felt anger wash over him. Seventeen years old? His parents had abandoned him, judged him so harshly at that age? It was ludicrous. Junmyeon suddenly hated them with every fiber of his being. “I can’t believe they would do that to you.”

“I can,” Sehun said. “I was never their favorite child. I was never their heir. It was easy for them to cut ties. They cut me out of their wills and wrote me off like I don’t exist. And I did the same.”

Junmyeon clenched his jaw. Sehun’s explanation seemed so logical, so nonchalant, so…mature, but it still bothered Junmyeon. Sehun’s parents sounded like terrible people.

“How are you so…” Junmyeon swallowed, trying to will away the anger he felt.

“Rich?” Sehun guessed.

“Yeah.”

“My maternal grandparents. I might not have been my parent’s heir, but I was theirs. They skipped over their only child, my mother for me. That’s probably where the hard feelings came from, but fuck, they made that decision when I was a kid. There’s nothing I can do about that. They didn’t like my dad, and my older brother isn’t my mother’s, my dad was married before. So they chose me.” Sehun sighed. He hugged Junmyeon closer to him. “I think my mother had hoped she would get their money through me, but when they both passed their will spelled it out implicitly. She couldn’t see a dime of it. I think it only added to the resentment. Me being gay was the cherry on top.”

“No offense but I kind of want to punch your parents,” Junmyeon said.

Sehun chuckled. “Then you would absolutely love my brother.”

“I doubt that,” Junmyeon answered.

“I doubt that too,” Sehun agreed, pressing a kiss to Junmyeon’s brow. “He’s the one who outed me to my parents.”

“Honestly, I hate your entire family right now,” Junmyeon murmured.

Sehun answered by pressing another soft kiss to Junmyeon’s face. “Hmmm. See Hyung, that is why I like you. You have good taste in people.”

“That is why you like me?” Junmyeon repeated softly, raising his head to look into Sehun’s eyes.

Sehun nodded. “That and your ass. Those are the top two reasons. Oh, and the way you turn red when I call you Hyung. I like that too.”

Junmyeon opened his mouth to protest, but he never got any words out. Sehun was fast, angling to press his lips to Junmyeon’s, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

Junmyeon stared at the message, a sense of dread overcoming him. He was faintly aware that Kibum was chewing loudly across the cubicle, something he would typically yell about. But not now.

_[From: Brat] Mind if I come to your house tonight? I have an early meeting in the morning and your place is closer/_

 Oh Sehun, come to his house? He thought about his room, it was a perpetual mess. Boxes, clothing, wait, had he even tossed out that juice box from a week ago?!

Sehun at his house. _Oh Sehun at his house._

_[From: Brat] If you need to hide your porn stash first that’s cool_

He typed out his response with shaky hands.

_Fine but no apologies I am a mess_

A few minutes later Junmyeon was texting Minseok, trying not to sound panicked.

_[From: Minnie] Please tell me you will clean your room first_

 Junmyeon gripped his phone.

_Ofc I will just please don’t embarrass me_

_[From: Minnie] No promises_

 

 

When Junmyeon arrived home (more like rushed home in a panic), he found Minseok reclining on the sofa, smiling down at his phone, at what Junmyeon assumed was a message from Lu Han.

Minseok looked up from his phone and blinked. “Lu Han is going to drop by in a few.”

“You’re literally inviting him because Sehun is coming, aren’t you,” Junmyeon groaned.

“Maybe,” Minseok admitted, attention turned back to his phone. “We both want to meet the guy who has you permanently walking with a limp and smiling at pickled radish signage.”

Junmyeon had a mind to stomp his feet and throw a tantrum. But he couldn’t. Because Sehun was coming over and he needed to clean up his room. _Fast._

He rushed towards his room, stopping before he reached the door. “He um, he’s younger than me,” he yelled over his shoulder, suddenly realizing he had never told Minseok that. He didn’t want it to be awkward when they met.

“How young?” Minseok yelled from the living room.

“Twenty-three.” Junmyeon fidgeted, waiting for a response.

“Hot dayum, Jun. You have skills. Congrats,” Minseok yelled back.

Junmyeon took that as a sign of approval and resumed his march towards destiny: a clean room. Only Oh Sehun, it seemed, could make that happen.

 

 

Junmyeon answered the door with a smile on his face, one that Sehun could instantly tell was faked.

Sehun cocked his eyebrow, smiling. “Is this that uncomfortable for you, huh?” he said with a smirk.

Junmyeon huffed, pouting.

Sehun leaned in, whispering, “Don’t be too cute, Hyung, or I’ll kidnap you again.”

Junmyeon stepped out of the way, swallowing thickly. Sehun strolled in, toeing off his shoes in the entryway. He steadied himself with his hand against the wall. He was wearing a t-shirt, lose around him, giving Junmyeon a peek at his collarbones. Sehun’s blonde hair was messy, unstyled, and he was wearing the cologne that Junmyeon loved.

Junmyeon stepped back, looking towards the living room.

He jumped when Sehun pressed a kiss to his cheek, the younger man laughing.

“I missed you, Hyung,” he drawled, hand going out to squeeze Junmyeon’s ass.

Junmyeon yelped, hand going over his mouth at once to silence himself. Minseok was in the next room and would never let him live it down if he started moaning the moment his…whatever Sehun was to him, showed up. Sehun chuckled darkly.

“I’ll show you around,” Junmyeon said, hissing, “Brat” under his breath as he gestured for Sehun to follow.

Sehun padded after him, Junmyeon feeling a tug in his chest at the reality of showing Sehun around his apartment. None of his other Sugar Daddies had ever visited his place. It was always beside the point. None of them cared that much, it wasn’t why they were meeting. It wasn’t what they were about. But Sehun seemed to care, remarking on the décor, slipping a hand into the pocket of Junmyeon’s jeans as the older man pointed out the kitchen and the study.

And then they were walking into the living room, Minseok standing up with his gummy smile. Suddenly Junmyeon felt a pang of _somethin_ g, at the way Minseok looked way too cute and eager. Friendly. Eager to please.

“Hi, you must be Sehun.” Minseok extended his hand.

“And you must be Minseok. The poor beleaguered best friend,” Sehun glanced at Junmyeon as he said it, flashing him a wink.

Junmyeon scowled. Of course, he had mentioned Minseok more than once, they were best friends and roommates after all. And he might just have said how little Minseok liked Junmyeon’s general state of messiness.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Minseok said. “Sit, please.”

Sehun smiled, taking a seat at the edge of the couch. That left Junmyeon to plop down in the middle, scooting closer to Sehun than Minseok, which he was sure his best friend noticed.

“Junmyeon said you’re an actuary. Impressive,” Sehun said, not being shy about putting his arm on Junmyeon’s lower back, scooting him closer.

Junmyeon saw the flash in Minseok’s eyes, the mirth, and looked away. The teasing that would ensue when he was next alone with his roommate would be brutal. He sighed.

“Yes. And you work for a pharm company, right?” Minseok reached for his drink.

Sehun nodded. “Yeah. For now.”

Junmyeon glanced at Sehun. What did _for now_ mean? Why did it suddenly seem that in two minutes Minseok had learned more about Sehun than Junmyeon had after two months? A pang of something unsettling passed through Junmyeon. It couldn’t be jealousy, right? That would be ridiculous.

The doorbell sounded, the ding-dong echoing in the hall. Once, then twice, which meant it was Lu Han. He was consistent to a fault.

The door was opening a second later, the familiar “Honey I’m home,” sounding out.

Junmyeon cringed at how sappy they were. Five years of a relationship and the two might as well have been married for fifty.

“In here,” Minseok shouted back, relaxing into the sofa.

_Minseok’s boyfriend_ , Junmyeon mouthed at Sehun. Sehun nodded.

A few seconds later and the Chinese man was walking into the Livingroom, a takeout bag in one hand and a six pack of beer in another. He smiled widely, staring blatantly at Junmyeon and Sehun.

“Hi,” Lu Han greeted. “You must be—”

“Oh Sehun.” Sehun stood, extending his hand to the newcomer.

Lu Han held up his hands and shrugged, both hands gripping the takeout bags. Sehun chuckled, taking one from Lu Han and setting it on the nearest table.

“Nice to meet you,” Sehun drawled, extending his hand again.

“You too,” Lu Han said, shaking Sehun’s hand with gusto.

Lu Han settled in, grabbing a beer and handing it to Minseok before falling into the empty recliner next to the sofa. He offered one to Junmyeon and Sehun, both turned him down.

Junmyeon shifted in his seat, finding the entire encounter more than a bit awkward. Minseok and Lu Han were practically boring holes into Sehun and him, watching them like parents assessing their child and their prom date.

“Do you live around here, Sehun?” Minseok asked innocently, knowing full well from Junmyeon where Sehun lived.

“No. I live a little out of the city,” Sehun answered. Junmyeon admired his confidence, how put together and relaxed he was. Junmyeon couldn’t relate, he was a ball of nerves.

“Let’s watch TV,” Junmyeon blurted out, going for the remote. He switched on the set and started clicking through channels, feeling jittery.

Out of the corner of his eye, Junmyeon could see Lu Han staring at Sehun with the most awkward expression on his face. He wanted to toss something at Lu Han and make him stop, but that would only make the situation even more awkward.

“I can’t help but feel like I met you before,” Lu Han pursed his lips, sipping his beer.

“Oh?” Sehun asked, his hand gripping Junmyeon’s waist, his fingers pressing in. Junmyeon liked the feeling, like the gentle pressure on his skin, pressing through the fabric. It was his one measure of comfort in the otherwise maddening situation. 

“Hmmm.” Lu Han nodded, foam on his upper lip. “I know we’ve met before.”

“Babe,” Minseok sighed, reaching forward to wipe the foam off.

“You must have gone to school in Switzerland, right?” Lu Han asked, setting his beer on the coaster Minseok produced for him.

Junmyeon knew Lu Han’s family was loaded, that was no secret. But unlike his arrangement with Sehun or Yifan or Minho, Lu Han and Minseok were dating outright. It was initially a sore spot for Lu Han’s parents, but one they had come to accept. It wasn’t unthinkable he knew Sehun, though a bit disorienting at the same time.

Junmyeon could feel Sehun stiffen, the hand that was massaging his lower back withdrawing. A lot disorienting, apparently.

“I did, for a year,” Sehun admitted.

“What year? I know we had to have been at the same school. The American school, right?” Lu Han said enthusiastically, a bit of his beer spilling on his lap.

“Babe, for fuck's sake.” Minseok reached over, towel in hand.

Lu Han ignored him. “Mountains, a lax curriculum, too much money. Remember?””

Junmyeon glanced at Sehun, but the tension that he had felt seemed to be gone. Sehun nodded, looking bored.

“Yeah, a little,” Sehun shrugged.

“No, oh my god no, I know!” Lu Han leapt out of seat, Minseok grabbing his beer before he could spill it all over the carpeting. “I know how I know you.” Lu Han wagged a finger in Sehun’s direction. “Your brother! Damn, you guys are too similar.”

Junmyeon saw the way the heat crept up Sehun’s face, the pink blooming. Was it embarrassment? He didn’t know.

“You’re Yoo Yeonseok’s little brother.” Lu Han snapped his fingers. “He’s your half-brother, right?”

Junmyeon stilled at the mention of the name. Or froze, that was probably more accurate. He felt his stomach drop, his heart still. Out of the corner of his eye he knew Minseok was staring at him with wide eyes. Everything seemed to slow down.

Sehun had mentioned his brother, but never by name. It couldn’t be…no…Yoo Yeonseok was the only boyfriend Junmyeon had ever had. Nineteen years ago, when he was young and hopeful.

“Yes. Yeonseok is my older brother. How did you two meet again?” Sehun asked.

Junmyeon thought he would be sick. Suddenly he felt so stupid, so foolish. Yoo Yeonseok and Oh Sehun looked a hell of a lot alike, how could he not have noticed? How could he not have seen the resemblance? But who could possibly think that a dark cloud from nineteen years ago could be related to the renewal of hope in Junmyeon’s life? It felt like a sick joke, one that Junmyeon couldn’t digest. Didn’t know how to process.

“We were in the same class in Switzerland. He relocated to London last I heard. Does he still live there?” Lu Han asked, sounding enthusiastic, missing the sudden change in atmosphere.

“The last I heard, yes. He’s in London,” Sehun answered.

 “Babe, Junmyeon and I are going to walk to the store to get something to drink, okay?” Minseok said sweetly, standing up. He approached Junmyeon, tugging him to his feet, doing his best to hide the shock.

“But I just bro–”

“Be back soon,” Minseok said, shutting Lu Han up.

Junmyeon felt like he was in a daze as Minseok dragged him from their apartment, hand in hand.

Yoo Yeonseok.

_Yoo Yeonseok._

_The only man he had ever loved. The man who had made him swear off relationships for good._

_Oh Sehun’s brother._

Junmyeon stumbled into the cold night air, Minseok still holding his hand.

“It could be a different guy,” Minseok said, letting Junmyeon’s hand go so he could place his hands on Junmyeon’s shoulders. “Take a deep breath, Jun. Maybe it isn’t him.”

“No.” Junmyeon should have connected the dots, or at least noticed the resemblance. Now that Lu Han said it, Junmyeon could see it clear as day. They looked so much alike. And Yeonseok’s family was well off, he had lived near the city all those years ago. The pieces all fit together into a fucked-up puzzle that Junmyeon wished never existed. “It’s him. They’re brothers.”

He couldn’t pinpoint what hurt the most, it felt like his entire body was crumbling under the weight of the sudden revelation. His heart hurt, his chest hurt, he wanted to cry, he wanted to laugh at the irony.

“Shit. Okay, okay. So maybe they’re brothers but It doesn’t seem like Sehun is close to him judging by his response. So…”

“They’re brothers,” Junmyeon interrupted. “It’s over. I can’t see Yeonseok’s brother even if they aren’t close.” Of course, they aren’t close. He knew that. Sehun had told him. _But they were brothers._

Minseok frowned, worry flashing in his eyes. “Junmyeon, you like him. I can see you like him. Maybe it is time, it’s been nineteen years, maybe--”

“No.” Junmyeon shrugged Minseok’s hands from his shoulders. “Minseok. No. It’s over.” He wanted to cry. To scream. To hide from the last two months. He couldn’t process it. He couldn’t deal with it. No. No, it wasn’t something he could handle. Not at that moment.

“Junmyeon, talk to him. Just, at least talk to him. I know Yeonseok hurt you,” Minseok pleaded with his best friend. “But I know you like Sehun. I don’t want you to end something that could make you happy because of something that happened so long ago. Tell Sehun how you know him. Get it out.”

Junmyeon shook his head.

“Do you like him?” Minseok asked.

Junmyeon blinked, trying not to cry.

“Do you like Oh Sehun?” Minseok repeated.

Junmyeon swallowed down the lump in his throat. “I––” He sucked in a breath. “Yes. I like him.”

“Don’t let the past destroy a chance at being happy with someone you like, Jun. Please.”

Someone cleared their throat, causing Junmyeon to snap his head to the left. He was surprised to see Sehun standing there, hands in his pocket, concern painted on his face.

“We need to talk,” Sehun said, tone even.

Junmyeon debated running away. Telling him he wanted to end things. A thousand different scenarios playing through his head.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Minseok said, reaching forward to pat Junmyeon on the shoulder. He mouthed _You’ve got this_ before turning and retreating into the apartment building.

Junmyeon clenched his fingers into fists, nails digging into his palms. He was afraid to look at Sehun, worried what he might say.

“How do you know my brother?” Sehun said slowly, walking forward to take Minseok’s place in front of Junmyeon. It meant Junmyeon had to look to the side to not see him, which Junmyeon miraculously didn’t do. He looked Sehun in the eyes. _Honesty. Be honest._

Junmyeon’s tongue felt thick in his mouth, the words hard to form. Looking back he wasn’t sure how he got them out, but he did. “I dated him when I was a teenager.” He wasn’t going to ask how Sehun knew he was acquainted with Yeonseok. He was used to Sehun being observant, too observant at times.

Sehun pursed his lips, but he didn’t look away.

Junmyeon sucked in a breath. “He broke up with me. And I, it–––“

“I’ve punched him in the face before, if that fact helps,” Sehun offered.

Junmyeon looked down, willing himself to find a measure of calm. Yoo Yeonseok was Sehun’s brother. Nineteen years ago he had sworn off relationship because of him. He hated him, still did, even if somewhere in the back of his head hatred had long ago been replaced with pity. And so his initial reaction to the revelation was that Sehun couldn’t –– shouldn’t be in his life either. Because Yoo Yeonseok was pain. Was a way of life that Junmyeon never wanted.

But now, with Sehun in front of him, unmoving, Junmyeon couldn’t tell him to leave. Couldn’t bring himself to run away, even if he had said as much to Minseok minutes before. He wanted to cry, to hate himself, to hate life, but he couldn’t. Because Oh Sehun, his victory, was still there, and a vow from nineteen years ago had been replaced.

Junmyeon looked up, making eye contact with Sehun.

 “I haven’t talked to him in five years.” Sehun took a step forward.

Junmyeon waited, not moving. He let Sehun pull him into his arms, hugging him close.

“He’s an asshole, and honestly I’m mad he ever met you. I should have met you first,” Sehun whispered, holding Junmyeon tightly.

Junmyeon buried his face in Sehun’s shirt. Victory. Victory.

“I need you, Junmyeon. So please, please don’t let this break us apart.” Sehun whispered, planting a kiss on the top of Junmyeon’s head. “I know we haven’t talked about _us_ , not really. But I like you. When I saw you leave with Minseok I knew, I just knew something was wrong and it scared me. God, it scared me. I don’t know what my brother was to you, but fuck, please don’t let this end it. I know we’re different, I know I’m you, but I like you. I’ve liked you so much since the moment I met you.”

Junmyeon felt the tears he was holding back prick the corners of his eyes. He fisted his fingers his fingers into Sehun’s shirt.

“Kim Junmyeon, will you go out with me?” Sehun whispered.

Junmyeon blinked a stray ear away. Go out with Sehun? Date...his sugar daddy? The younger brother of his high school boyfriend...

_Date._

_Get attached._

_Love someone again._

“I’m not––– I can’t, I can’t answer you right now,” Junmyeon blubbered, half a sob. He couldn’t, not so soon after finding out a harsh truth. He needed time to digest, to understand, to think things through. “But I won’t break it off with you,” he promised.

“I don’t want you to go.” He told himself and Sehun the truth simultaneously. A few minutes before he swore it was over, but now, standing in his arms, he...he knew. He couldn’t. Not now. Not with this specific man.

Sehun hugged him close. “Okay. Hyung, I can wait. Okay. Just don’t run away from me, _please_.”

“I won’t,” Junmyeon promised. “I won’t.”

 

 

Sehun slept over that night. It was Junmyeon’s idea, partially to make sure Sehun knew he wouldn’t break it off with him, partly because he needed the comfort of Sehun, he needed to be held and have kind words whispered to him. Sehun was happy to oblige, to spend what was probably the most innocent night of their relationship so far together.

 They didn’t mess around, even though Lu Han and Minseok were sure that was what was going to happen.

“Remember, we have thin walls,” Minseok yelled when they walked into Junmyeon’s bedroom.

They slept cuddled together on Junmyeon’s much smaller bed, bodies pressed together as they drifted off to sleep. In the morning Sehun left early, pressing a kiss on Junmyeon’s brow before going. Junmyeon smiled, affection welling up in his chest.

Later that morning, Junmyeon saw a much lower payment in his bank account, just as his phone buzzed with a message.

_[Brat] I’ll keep decreasing it until you say you’ll go out with me_

Junmyeon rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his face.

 

 

 

 “Is that––” Junmyeon started, jaw going slack.

“A Lego cafe,” Sehun finished for him. He smiled sheepishly at Junmyeon before grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the front of the store.

The storefront was bright, with giant Lego figures at each end of the entrance. Everything was in primary colors, bright and bold and very kid-friendly. Also infinitely attractive to Kim Junmyeon, judging by the way he wanted to run inside.

“Minseok said you like Legos,” Sehun explained as they walked into the place.

“Wait, when did you talk to Minseok?” Junmyeon asked.

“I have his number,” Sehun smiled, cutting Junmyeon off before he could question when his best friend and Sehun exchanged digits. “Come on, let’s go sit there.” He pointed at one of the low plastic tables, furniture that looked more suited to children than adults.

Junmyeon let himself be dragged along, avoiding running into a cafe worker along the way. He plopped down on the bright yellow plastic stool, Sehun doing the same across the table from him.

Junmyeon looked around, marveling at just how many Lego sets were contained on the shelves lining the cafe. The place smelled like coffee and baked goods (with an undertone of plastic) and wasn’t busy given its size. The cafe area was spacious, large enough for Junmyeon to feel like they were alone in the place (thankfully they avoided sitting too close to the children across the room, who were currently exasperating their mother by throwing blocks on the floor).

Sehun had picked him up after work, and honestly, Junmyeon had expected to end up back at Sehun’s house. This was a pleasant surprise.

“So, coffee and Legos, huh?”

Sehun nodded. “I thought this might be a good stop on the please-date-me campaign.”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” Junmyeon didn’t really have to ask, he could tell in the way Sehun was staring at him, he knew from the smile Sehun gave him when he picked him up outside his office, or the texts he sent him through the day. An attachment had already formed, whether Junmyeon wanted it or not. The only thing that hadn’t occurred was a formal agreement, and Sehun was determined to wheedle it out of Junmyeon, through Lego cafes, sex, or some combination thereof.

“I really like you, _Hyung,_ ” Sehun answered, careful to focus on the last word, knowing what it did to the man across the table from him.

“Brat,” Junmyeon mumbled, turning his head to stare at the shelves of Lego sets.

Sehun chuckled. A moment later Junmyeon felt the taller man’s foot graze his, leg sliding against his own.

“After this, want to come over?” Sehun asked.

“Maybe,” Junmyeon answered, knowing full well he would.

 

 

Junmyeon pressed his finger to the cold glass of the car window, tapping lightly. “I’ve heard they have really good cake.” He pointed towards the small bakery tucked in between office buildings, a cute pink sign with a cupcake hanging over the storefront.

Kibum had been raving about it at work the other day, which was horribly unfair because bragging about cake without sharing is akin to torture in Kim Junmyeon’s book.

“Huh?” Sehun glanced over.

“Can we stop?” Junmyeon asked. They had spent the last two hours at the Lego cafe, sipping coffee (for Junmyeon, Sehun ordered tea), and nibbling on pie in-between building the most badass spaceship they could muster. It was now packed into the back seat, a haphazard creation that made Junmyeon feel oddly proud.

“Okay,” Sehun readily agreed, maneuvering the car into a nearby parking spot.

They left the car, stepping onto the sidewalk. It was dark already, the sun had set while they were busy building the most lopsided Lego spaceship known to man.

Sehun glanced at the sign outside the store. “Cake? We just ate pie.”

“You say that like someone could possibly ever have enough sweets,” Junmyeon tutted.

“Okay, fine. You got me there.””

Junmyeon had his hand on the door when Sehun’s phone began to ring, vibrating with the silly ringtone from some cartoon Junmyeon had never seen. He looked over his shoulder to see Sehun squinting at his phone.

“I need to get this. I’ll be right in, okay?” Sehun said quietly, raising the phone to his ear.

Junmyeon nodded and stepped inside the bakery. The scent of heaven immediately assaulted him and oh wow, a wall of cakes was almost as divine as a wall of Legos. He padded over to the long display case, stomach already rumbling at the thought of the possibilities.

He was bent over, eyes scanning the cakes when he heard a familiar voice say his name.

“Junmyeon?”

Junmyeon looked up, blinking in surprise at the man who was standing a few feet from him, a cake box in hand. Wu Yifan, his last sugar daddy.

“Yifan?” Junmyeon said.

He looked good. Put together, as always, clad in a designer suit with his hair slicked back, his cheeks chubby, tall and lanky body still moving in that slightly awkward way that Junmyeon had grown used to.

Yifan nodded. “Small world, huh?”

“Didn’t you move to––“

“Beijing.” Yifan rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “The transfer was canceled at the last minute, they decided to close the branch.” He shifted on his feet, the cake box perched on his wide palm.  “Sorry, I would have called, but since I ended things, I didn’t want to make it awkward. I figured you moved on.”

“Ah.” Junmyeon nodded, glancing towards the door, towards where Sehun was still outside talking on his phone. “I did.” He looked back, offering Yifan a smile. It was like seeing an old friend. After all, they had spent three years together, even if they weren’t _togethe_ r together.

“Good for you. You look…happy.” Yifan said. Junmyeon knew he was sincere, he had spent enough time with the man to know when he was bullshitting.

“I am,” Junmyeon admitted.

“Well, it was nice seeing you. Take care,” Yifan nodded a goodbye. He was halfway to the door when he turned. “If you ever need anything, Junmyeon, you have my number.”

“Thanks. Take care of yourself.” Junmyeon offered a small wave.

As Yifan was exiting, Sehun was entering, the two men sidestepping each other. When Sehun spotted Junmyeon he walked over, phone still in hand.

“Is everything okay?” Junmyeon asked, glancing at Sehun’s phone.

Sehun sighed. “Jongin is being a dramatic whiny bitch, nothing new. I figured the cake shop employees didn’t need to hear me say as much.”

Junmyeon snorted. “Probably not.”

“Find a cake yet?” Sehun asked.

“Not yet. Help me look.” Junmyeon reached for Sehun’s arm, tugging him towards the display case.

 

 

Junmyeon was lying in Sehun’s bed, exhausted and fucked out. He had his head on Sehun’s chest, listening to the younger man’s heartbeat, a steady rhythm he found comforting. Sehun was playing with his hair, carding his fingers through Junmyeon’s messy locks in a slow, absentminded way.

They were both naked, having spent the last hour unhurried, taking things slow, Sehun leaving purposeful marks on Junmyeon’s shoulder, on his chest, while Junmyeon returned the favor, their cake long forgotten.

“Who was that guy in the cake store?” Sehun asked softly, yawning. “I saw you talking to him.”

Junmyeon swallowed. It wouldn’t hurt to say it, would it? “Yifan. He was um….my last…”

“Sugar daddy?” Sehun predictably finished for him, which seemed to be a habit nowadays.

“Yeah.” Junmyeon let a puff of hot breath out. “He was supposed to be transferred to Beijing for his job, but I guess it fell through.”

“Hmm.” Sehun hummed, sounding generally disinterested in the subject beyond finding out who the man was.

“He said I look happy,” Junmyeon admitted, still finding some sort of pride in the fact.

“Are you?” Sehun asked, the pads of his fingers gently massaging Junmyeon’s scalp. It felt good.

“Yeah. I think so,” Junmyeon admitted.

They fell into a comfortable silence, Junmyeon closing his eyes and beginning to drift off as Sehun continued to play with his hair.

And then; “Is my dick bigger than his?” Sehun asked.

“I’m not answering that,” Junmyeon mumbled, smirking. Yes, Sehun was bigger, but he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing.

“I’m richer than him,” Sehun said. “Better looking too.”

Junmyeon sighed, lifting his head and giving Sehun a pointed look. “Are we really going to do this right now?”

Sehun raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know. Depends on if my dick is bigger.”

Junmyeon was tight-lipped, not saying a word, just staring at the man who twenty minutes ago had definitely not cared if his dick was bigger, too busy buried inside Junmyeon, giving him everything he had.

“Wait” Junmyeon snorted. “Are you jealous?”

“What? No.” Sehun scoffed, furrowing his brow. “Me, jealous? Never.”

“Oh my god, you are.” Junmyeon wagged a finger in Sehun’s face. “You’re totally jealous.”

“I’ve never been jealous in my life,” Sehun swore, bottom lip jutting out.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” Junmyeon said, trying to hold back from laughing.

“I’m not––“Sehun’s protest was interrupted by a knock on his bedroom door. Both men stopped, glancing towards the interruption.

“Sir, Mr. Kim Jongin is here to see you. He says it’s urgent.”

Junmyeon recognized the voice of Sehun’s butler.

“Are you kidding me,” Sehun groaned, instantly annoyed.

Junmyeon sat up, dragging his hand through his hair. “Go. I’ll just hang out here for a bit.”

“Baekhyun probably kicked him out again,” Sehun grumbled, struggling to sit up.

Junmyeon didn’t know who Baekhyun was, or anything about the situation, really, so he stayed quiet. “Go. I’ll sleep for a bit, okay.”

“Fine. But I’m not jealous,” Sehun said, reaching for where his pants lay discarded on the floor.

Junmyeon didn’t argue. He flopped back down on the bed and rolled over, feeling a tug of affection in his chest.

 

 

 

The next thing Junmyeon knew, he was waking up, covered in sweat. He groaned, wondering when it got so hot. A second later he realized he was sweating because he had a six-foot-something man practically wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. Sehun had his leg pressed over Junmyeon’s thigh, his arm resting snuggly against his middle.

A snore escaped Sehun’s lips as Junmyeon tried to creep out of his embrace. Junmyeon reached for his cellphone, surprised to see it was almost seven in the morning. Thankfully it was Saturday so he wouldn’t have to panic to get to the office on time.

Junmyeon yawned, stretching his arms. He rubbed his face a few times before he went on the hunt for his clothing, which he knew was scattered all over Sehun’s room.

Once he was dressed, he put on slippers and trudged to the door. He was thirsty. He knew the house well enough to find the kitchen, plus he didn’t really want to wake Sehun up. He knew the man kept more extended hours than he did most of the time.

 

 

Junmyeon was walking across the dining room when he stopped, turning on his heels to look towards one of the sitting areas. He blinked, confused.

Sitting, or more accurately sleeping, in one of the chairs was a person he didn’t recognize. Messy brown hair sticking up seven different ways, a teddy bear print fleece over him. He looked warm and soft, and more than a little uncomfortable with the way his leg was thrown over the arm of the chair, his other leg hanging loosely onto the floor.

No sooner had Junmyeon noticed him than the man was stirring, smacking his dry lips and opening his eyes. There was an awkward moment when the man saw Junmyeon, squintingg then blinking at him.

“Are you the new butler?” the man asked, letting the blanket fall from his lap.

“I– um, no.” Junmyeon knotted his hands together, not sure what to say.

“Wait! You must be um…Joon…uh, Sehun’s new guy?” the man tilted his head to the side and gave Junmyeon the once over.

“Kim Junmyeon.”

“Right. You don’t look _that_ old,” the man said.

Junmyeon felt the heat creep into his cheeks.

“Sorry, that was rude. I’m Jongin. Sehun’s best friend.” The man stumbled to his feet and held his hand out, waiting for Junmyeon to shake it.

“Ah. Of course. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Junmyeon grabbed Jongin’s hand, giving it a firm shake. Then an awkward silence descended again. “I was just...” Junmyeon pointed behind him, towards the kitchen. “Thirsty.”

“Me too.” Jongin rubbed his eyes. “And hungry. Let’s eat breakfast.”

Jongin threw his arm around Junmyeon’s shoulder and urged him towards the kitchen. “I make really good eggs.”

Junmyeon let himself be led. “Yeah. Okay. Breakfast.”

 

 

 

“Do you normally sleep in chairs?” Junmyeon asked, looking over Jongin’s shoulder as he cracked eggs into a frying pan.

“Hmm. Oh, no. I was just too sad last night to sleep in a bed.”

Junmyeon wasn’t sure what that meant, and he was kind of afraid to find out. He walked over to take a seat at the breakfast bar, pulling out a stool and plopping down. He had a cup of coffee, some instant stuff he found in a cupboard. He had offered Jongin some, but the man had wrinkled his nose and muttered something about not _liking that awful poisoned drink_.

Junmyeon watched Jongin cook, sipping his coffee.

“He really likes you, you know,” Jongin said, throwing a dish towel over his shoulder and reaching for a spatula.

Junmyeon looked down at his coffee. “I know,” he admitted.

“No, I mean, way more than he’s liked anyone before.” Jongin peeked over his shoulder. “ _Like really_. He hasn’t had it easy, even if he is fucking loaded. I’ve never heard him talk about someone the way he talks about you.”

Junmyeon felt a lump form in his throat, a pang of guilt hit him. He still hadn’t agreed to date Sehun, and for some reason, it seemed somewhat…cruel, now that he was thinking about it.

“It’s complicated,” Junmyeon said cryptically.

“I’m sure it is.” Jongin flipped the eggs, tilting the pan. “Most things are.”

Junmyeon couldn’t argue with that. He took a drink of his coffee, mind wandering. Was he unfair? He considered his future. Would he ever agree to be in a serious relationship with Sehun? If he didn’t, he was unfair to some degree. He was stringing him along.

But no, Sehun knew that. He knew that Junmyeon wasn’t ready to say yes. It was the both of them, it wasn’t all on Junmyeon.

“Please don’t tell me you’re cooking,” Sehun drawled from the kitchen entryway.

Junmyeon turned to see Sehun padding over. He was shirtless, his flannel pajama pants hanging on his hips. Junmyeon swallowed the lump in his throat down, suddenly feeling bothered in an entirely different way, his eyes following Sehun’s happy trail.

“Fuck you, I’m a good cook,” Jongin shot back.

“Right. Right. I forgot.” Sehun sighed. He walked over to Junmyeon and leaned over, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Morning,” Sehun said sleepily, his hand rubbing a soothing circle on Junmyeon’s back.

“Guys, please no PDA in front of me,” Jongin huffed. “I’m sensitive right now.”

Sehun snorted. “You mean you’re an idiot You know Baekhyun is allergic to dogs, and yet you keep bringing them home. It is a wonder he didn’t kick you out earlier.”

“They’re helpless puppies!” Jongin protested, launching into a long list of reasons why bringing home every stray he met was fine, that Baekhyun just needed to up his dose of allergy medication.

Junmyeon listened, amused at how the best friends bickered back and forth, quickly forgetting the worry that had flitted across his mind minutes before.

 

 

“We need to talk.”

Junmyeon had heard those words from multiple people in his life, but none had the icy, deadly baby face of one Kim Minseok.

“I put my cereal bowl in the sink this morning, I promise,” Junmyeon squeaked, mortified at the way his roommate was staring at him.

“Sit down,” Minseok ordered, pointing towards the sofa.

Junmyeon felt his heart rate increase as he took a seat, grabbing the ugly elephant print pillow and hugging it to his middle. “I’ll fold my clothes, okay. Whatever it is I’ll fold them.”

Minseok took a seat in the recliner, turning to look at Junmyeon. “Junmyeon, you know I love you, right?”

“Yes, of course. I love you too but–– wait, what is this about?” Junmyeon worried his bottom lip.

“You know, when two men love each other, sometimes–“

“That isn’t how babies are made, okay I know that much!” Junmyeon yelled, shutting up when Minseok rolled his eyes.

“Junmyeon, Lu Han and I got engaged yesterday. I’m going to move in with him,” Minseok explained in rapid speech. “Now breath, okay, breath.”

Junmyeon felt a sinking feeling in his gut. He stared at his best friend, not comprehending. “I don’t understand.”

“We decided it would work best if we live together before the wedding. It isn’t anything you did, but it just, Junmyeon, you’ll be fine, okay. You’ll be fine living alone.”

“A–lone?” Junmyeon stared at the wall. Alone. He hadn’t lived alone since….well, _never_. He had lived with his parents and then after he had lived in a dorm, and after that with Minseok. Could he survive by himself? Who would yell at him for being messy?

Minseok stood, making his way to the sofa and taking a seat next to Junmyeon. He pulled Junmyeon into a hug, patting his back softly. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Junmyeon swallowed thickly. “You’re moving out.”

“I know, I know. But we’re both getting older, Jun. I need to do this.”

Junmyeon knew he was foolish, but he still felt a massive wave of sorrow come over him. He clung to his best friend, sniffling. And then he realized he hadn’t even congratulated him. “Holy shit you’re getting married.” He hugged Minseok harder. “Congrats.”

Minseok laughed. “Thanks. You know we’ll still see each other all the time, right? I’m not leaving you to your own devices.”

“Good,” Junmyeon said, blinking away a tear. “You better still be around.”

“I will be. I promise,” Minseok whispered, holding his best friend close.

 

 

Sehun threw the ball, the neon green toy bouncing along the vast lawn. Vivi chased after it, his tongue already sticking out as he panted. Sehun laughed, clapping his hands as his dog tumbled after the toy.

“Hyung, look,” Sehun said, pointing as Vivi slid to a stop.

Junmyeon smiled. They were sitting in Sehun’s large backyard, Junmyeon’s idea. Vivi, he had quickly learned, could be hyper sometimes. They had been trying to watch a movie, but the dog wouldn’t stop jumping on their laps, licking Junmyeon’s face, then barking at random noises. It was time to wear him out so they could have some alone time.

Sehun wandered back to the patio, sitting next to Junmyeon on the wooden bench. He flopped down, out of breath from chasing his dog around.

“I’m not sure if we’re wearing Vivi or you out,” Junmyeon said, amused.

“Oh, I still have energy,” Sehun promised with a wink.

Junmyeon chuckled. “Brat.”

Junmyeon’s phone vibrated, and he reached for it, fishing it out of his jean pocket. It was Minseok.

“Of course, you can keep the mixing bowls, they’re yours,” Junmyeon muttered, typing away.

“He’s been texting you all night,” Sehun remarked. Vivi trotted over to him, ball in mouth, asking for his owner to play some more.

“He’s busy packing,” Junmyeon said, finishing up the text message.

“Packing?” Sehun grabbed the ball from Vivi’s mouth and gave it another throw, the dog bounding after it.

Junmyeon realized he hadn’t told Sehun yet. “He’s moving in with Lu Han. They got engaged.”

“No shit.” Sehun whistled. “Hyung, does that mean you’re looking for a new roommate?”

Junmyeon shifted in his seat, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “I….” Sure, he had thought about it. In fact, he had been through a cycle of emotions, all of them needy and most of them immature. His best friend was leaving. He would be alone _. He didn’t want to be alone._ He was afraid Minseok wouldn’t see him much, even if he promised otherwise.

“You could always move in with me,” Sehun said, tone even.

Junmyeon looked at him, noting the sincerity in his eyes.

“You know I have plenty of room. You can have half a wing to yourself if you want. I’ll even charge you rent if it makes you feel better,” Sehun said, looking hopeful.

Junmyeon felt like a huge jerk when he said it. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

Sehun sighed and stood up. “I guess not. You would never get any sleep if you lived here.”

“What do you me––“ Junmyeon didn’t get his question out before he was being lifted off the bench, Sehun throwing him over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” Junmyeon protested.

“Sorry, can’t do that, Hyung,” Sehun practically purred, heading for the house. “Play by yourself, Vivi. Daddy is busy,” he yelled, smiling wickedly as he carried Junmyeon inside.

 

 

The first weekend after Minseok moved out, Sehun showed up at Junmyeon’s front door unannounced. Junmyeon had wondered why Sehun hadn’t called or messaged him to come over and was working his way into an I-miss-my-best-friend crisis with a dash of my-hot-younger-sugar-daddy-is-being-an-ass rage.

Junmyeon opened the door with his hair sticking up every which way, he was dressed in his pajamas. He had fallen asleep on the sofa watching Golden Girls, nursing a glass of wine while he swore off everyone he knew.

“Hi Hyung,” Sehun greeted, leaning forward to peck Junmyeon’s lips.

Junmyeon leaned into the kiss. “What are you doing here?” he asked, still groggy from his wine nap.

Sehun stepped inside, arm going to Junmyeon’s waist. “Get dressed, we’re going away.”

“Going…what?” Junmyeon asked.

“Going away for the weekend. A little trip,” Sehun repeated. “Pack lightly.”

“Where are we going?”

“A nice little place off the beaten path.” Sehun’s hand slid down, cupping Junmyeon’s ass. “Now come on, I don’t want to miss our reservation.”

 

 

A nice little place off the beaten path turned out to be three hours outside the city, a drive consisting of Junmyeon warning Sehun to look out for deer while Sehun drove too fast and played the stereo too loud. Eventually, the paved roads gave way to gravel ones, the stones dinging against Sehun’s sports car. Junmyeon hoped he had good insurance, but he wasn’t about to voice his worry, not when he was too busy marveling at just how in-the-middle-of-nowhere they were.

Eventually, they pulled up to a cabin, a one-story log structure with pine trees surrounding it. A flagstone chimney jutted out from one side, smoke rising up into the night. A dim light was on the inside, the glow cast through the curtains.

“Good, they got it ready for us,” Sehun said, putting the car into park.

“I didn’t take you for the rustic type,” Junmyeon mumbled, unclicking his seatbelt.

“I’m not,” Sehun said, looking over at Junmyeon. “I’m the kidnap Junmyeon away from everyone to have him to myself type.”

Junmyeon snorted, reaching for the door handle. “You do that every time you take me to your house. We could have just gone there.”

 

 

When Junmyeon stepped inside, he couldn’t help but smile at the sheer rusticity of the place. It was like something from a bad movie. Bare log walls, furniture made of pine, flannel prints and a chandelier of antlers came together to form a quaint, if not outdated, décor.

A fire was lit, crackling in the flagstone hearth. The air smelled faintly stale but homey. The entire place felt so far removed from the city, the hustle and bustle, that Junmyeon couldn’t help but appreciate it.

“I never took you for the cabin type,” Junmyeon said, turning to see Sehun lugging in their overnight bags.

“Like I said, I’m not, Hyung.”

“Right, I forgot.” Junmyeon walked over to the fire, half-wondering if either of them would know how to light it again when it went out. “How did you find this place?”

“Google and patience,” Sehun quipped. He walked towards Junmyeon, shucking off his shoes as he went. When he reached the older man, he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.

“I hope you like ramyun and poorly cooked meals,” Sehun whispered, planting a kiss on Junmyeon’s neck.

Junmyeon melted into the embrace, his hand going to rest over Sehun’s joined hands. _Victory._ “I guess I can deal with that.”

_I could deal with anything if we are together_ skirted the edges of his mind.

 

 

“There is seriously no one around for miles,” Sehun said, waving Junmyeon forward.

They had spent the night in the pine four poster bed, waking up to find birds chirping amidst a blanket of silence. They really were away from the city, Junmyeon realized. It would be peace and quiet. And for Oh Sehun that meant it was also an ideal skinny-dipping environment.

“But what if a fish bites me,” Junmyeon said. It was ridiculous, he knew.

Sehun was standing in the lake, the water up to his waist. He splashed playfully, urging Junmyeon to come in. “Hyung, I always thought you were brave.”

“I’m not, actually,” Junmyeon admitted, fingers toying with the buttons of his jeans. “So have fun swimming naked alone.” He turned heel and ran back to the house, Sehun shouting after him.

He made a half-hearted attempt to get away from Sehun when he rushed into the cabin, chasing after him. It really was half-hearted, as he let himself be caught near the dining table, Sehun grabbing his shoulders in a vice grip and turning him around.

“Time to take your clothes off, Hyung,” Sehun drawled.

Junmyeon didn’t try to run again, knowing this time he would be stripped naked for a much more enjoyable activity than skinny dipping.

 

 

 

By the end of their second day at the cabin, Junmyeon had come to the conclusion they weren’t going to live off the grid anytime soon. They had somehow managed to eat and not burn the place down, but neither man was well suited to the cabin lifestyle.

The rusticity and feeling of being far away from civilization wore off by Sunday morning, enough so that when they drove through the first tiny town on their way back, Junmyeon found a sense of relief settling in.

Cabin life aside, he had enjoyed a weekend with Sehun. A bit too much. He wasn’t sure he was going to walk without a limp for a few days.

“I’ll drop you off at your place,” Sehun hummed as they neared the city.

“Can I sleep at yours?” Junmyeon asked, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. “I don’t feel like being alone.” It was hard getting used to not having a roommate and Junmyeon, true to character, was probably being a bit more dramatic about it than most people would.

Sehun glanced over at him, seeming to hesitate.

“Is it not okay?” Junmyeon asked, wondering why Sehun was hesitating.

“Hyung, It’s fine. I was just trying to figure out how I would get any sleep with you in my bed tonight,” Sehun answered cheekily.

Junmyeon was too tired to mutter _brat_. He shut his eyes and fell asleep for the rest of the journey.

 

 

Junmyeon woke up when the front gate of Sehun’s residence slid back, a low grown as the metal moved to give them entry. He blinked, stretching as he sat up.

The headlights of Sehun’s Aston Martin illuminated the circle drive. The house was dark save for the lights on the portico.

“Shit,” Sehun suddenly muttered.

“What?” Junmyeon blinked, looking at Sehun. He looked back towards the house. He could make out a car parked near the door, in the space where Sehun would usually park. It was black, something expensive looking. “Who’s that?”

Sehun didn’t answer. He pressed on the brakes, a few choice swear words leaving his mouth as he put the car in park. “I thought he’d be gone by now.”

“Who?” Junmyeon asked, but Sehun didn’t respond.

Junmyeon undid his seatbelt, brow furrowing in concern. Sehun was already out of the car, stalking up towards the door. Junmyeon reached for the car door and slid out, eyes narrowing in the dim lighting to see what was going on.

“Mary said you were away for the weekend. It isn’t nice to make your brother wait. I told you I’d be by on Saturday––“

“Get the fuck out of here,” Sehun growled.

Junmyeon tensed up, not taking another step. He knew very well the man who had stepped out from the entryway, speaking the name of Sehun’s housekeeper. Yoo  Yeonseok hadn’t changed much in nineteen years, not really. His hair had a sliver of grey, his face had a few lines, but overall, he looked the same. Junmyeon tightened his jaw.

Yeonseok sighed. “Sehun, it isn’t every day your brother comes to visit. You know I worry about you living here, alone.” Yeonseok looked up towards the house. “And this is how you treat me?”

Junmyeon’s heart was thrumming in his chest. His palms felt sweaty, his knees weak.

“If I wanted to see you, I would have been home on Saturday,” Sehun hissed.

The realization hit Junmyeon like a ton of bricks. Their impromptu weekend trip wasn’t just a spur of the moment, happy go lucky thing. Sehun had likely been avoiding his brother’s visit, and just as likely had been trying to keep Junmyeon from running into the man who had so warped his sense of relationships nineteen years before.

Sehun, for all his cheesy pickup lines and sexual innuendos, was trying to protect him. And that realization had Junmyeon’s chest swelling, a wave of affection, of gratitude, of something profound and _Junmyeon couldn’t fucking name it_ , washed over him.

“Yes, well.” It was at that moment Yeonseok noticed him, looking past Sehun’s shoulder to see Junmyeon standing near the car. “You were busy, weren’t you.”

And he knew. He knew at that moment that only one of them ever carried something from nineteen years before. _He doesn’t recognize me_ , Junmyeon realized. The man who tore my heart out doesn’t even know who I am. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry.

But he settled for action, for doing something about the rising anger that replaced the fear, the helplessness, the gratitude and affection that had washed over him a second before. He stalked towards Sehun, balling his hands up into fists.

Yeonseok watched him, a bored expression on his face.

“He told you to leave, I think it is best you listen to your brother,” Junmyeon said, a certain edge he didn’t know he possessed tinging his words.

Junmyeon stepped into the light, next to Sehun. He waited for Yeonseok to recognize him then, but there was nothing on the older man’s face but a vague sense of annoyance.

“And who might you be?” Yeonseok asked.

Junmyeon smiled. He knew Sehun was watching him.

“I’m Sehun’s boyfriend. Kim Junmyeon.” Junmyeon stood straight, staring Yeonseok down. “And you’re his asshole brother. Now get out, unless you want the police to be the ones to escort you off the property.”

Yeonseok snorted. “You wouldn’t––“

Junmyeon already had his phone in his hand. “Try me.”

He watched as the carefully controlled expression on Yeonseok’s face crumbled. The man glared at Sehun, then looked back at Junmyeon.

“Are you going to let him talk to me like this?” he demanded, taking a step towards Sehun.

“Yeah. I am. Now get the fuck out before he calls the cops.” Sehun stepped back, gesturing towards Yeonseok’s car. “I’m not sure _our parents_ would like it if you got arrested for trespassing.”

A tense moment passed between the three of them. Junmyeon wasn’t sure what would happen, wasn’t sure if Yeonseok would actually listen. When he let out a huff and then stalked to his car Junmyeon couldn’t help but smile feeling a different kind of victory.

Yeonseok yanked his car door open, swearing. In a few seconds, his car lights flickered on, and he was peeling out of the driveway, tires squealing.

And then they were alone, standing under the dim lighting of the portico.

“Hyung,” Sehun said, stepping in front of Junmyeon.

Junmyeon looked up at Sehun. He felt a swell of confidence, of achievement, of things he couldn’t describe. He had told Yoo Yeonseok off in so many words and fuck, the fact the man hadn’t even recognized him wasn’t eating him up inside. In fact, he was happy about it. It didn’t matter.

What mattered was the man standing in front of him. The man who cared what he felt, cared if he was upset, cared if he was happy. The man who was twelve years younger, the man who seemed the unlikeliest person to break Junmyeon’s no-dating-rule. The man who dragged him to Lego cafes, to cabins in the woods, to bars with punk bands. The man who knew how to turn him on with a word, but also knew when all he needed was a hug.

“I fucking love you,” Sehun said, dipping down to press his lips against Junmyeon’s.

Junmyeon reveled in the kiss, pulling Sehun in closer. _Love_. Sehun had never said it before, and the word thrummed in Junmyeon’s ears. It swelled in his chest. He felt it, knew it with every fiber of his being, the truth of that one word. The truth of Sehun speaking it.

When they parted, Sehun started down at him, lips slick. “Hyung,” he whispered.

It had taken Kim Junmyeon nineteen years. It had taken him a dozen or so Sugar Daddies, countless hookups, and an awkward first meeting with a twenty-three-year-old. It had taken Kim Junmyeon sleepless nights, a lot of excuses repeated as he tossed and turned.

He had found him. Junmyeon cared just as much as Sehun. He cared if Sehun was happy, if he was sad. He cared because he loved him. And he didn’t want a world without Sehun in it.

“Sehun,” Junmyeon said, voice low. And how did a person know when the time was right to give in? Kim Junmyeon couldn’t describe it, but he knew. “Will you go out with me?”

Sehun smirked, pulling Junmyeon closer. “On one condition.”

Junmyeon suddenly tensed. “What?”

“Move in with me,” Sehun whispered, inching in for another kiss.

Junmyeon smiled. “Okay. But I’m paying rent.”

“Hmmm,” Sehun hummed, his lips closing in on Junmyeon’s. “Fine. But be prepared to get less sleep than you already do because there is no way you’re sleeping anywhere but my bed. You look too good in it, Hyung, for me to let you sleep anywhere else.”

Junmyeon didn’t answer, content to press his lips against his boyfriend’s, sealing the deal, world upturned by a new kind of victory.


End file.
